


Kaleidoscope

by beanedbyBean



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Magic Realism, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-07-01 12:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 65,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15774093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanedbyBean/pseuds/beanedbyBean
Summary: In a universe where only black and white exists, there is one kind of magic people wish for: color . . .  and this magic only appears after one has touched their soulmate.However, for Lee Hongbin, seeing color has always been his ‘default’.





	1. prologue

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**. prologue .**

“Did you hear the news?”

Twenty-year-old Lee Hongbin took a sip of his strawberry milkshake, nearly blanching at the taste of sugar overload in the drink. He suddenly wished he had ordered a banana smoothie instead. He looked up, glancing at the group of ladies sitting two tables away from him. He looked at the excited newcomer—the one who squealed—walking towards them in the quiet cafe.

“No! What happened?” the other girls asked, sitting straighter.

The newcomer daintily put down her bag. “Well…” she began dramatically. “...Let me fill you in. Remember Michelle, the cute senior girl in our English class last semester?”

“Yeah.” one of them nodded. “Tall, pretty American.”

“I bumped into her at the grocery store yesterday so we had a little chat.” The newcomer went on, animatedly. “I saw she had a huge rock on her finger so I asked her about it. The news is she’s going to get married next month!”

Hongbin bit into his buttered toast, relishing in the way the condensed milk on top melted into the slight crispiness of the bread. He was scrolling through the morning news on his phone, earphones popped into his ears but with no music playing.

“She found her soulmate?” The other girl gasped.

“Yes!”

“Ugh,” the third girl groaned. “Such a lucky girl.”

Hongbin rolled his eyes slowly, wishing they weren’t so loud through his headphones. He scrolled through his phone, contemplating on playing some music while he ate his breakfast in peace.

“I know, right?” The newcomer pouted, enviously. “So freaking lucky.”

“Did you ask her how did it feel like?” she asked. “The magic of color.”

Hongbin tried not to visibly flinch.

“I asked her and she said it felt like ‘the best feeling’ in the world.”

He wanted to chuckle under his breath. Well, that perhaps was an extremely overused and utterly cheesy description of the feeling.

“How did that happen?”

“Well, they’ve been dating for years since they were in high school. They were _really_ in love with each other but they decided to give it a shot after a few years. Can’t you imagine waiting though? Just waiting for a few years to know if you and your partner would ever match!” She frantically fanned herself as if it was an atrociously unbearable idea.

“Anyway, they really _liked_ each other and they had hoped they’d match. They’ve agreed that they need to find out before they both graduated university so they planned out this really romantic date. By the end of the night, they closed their eyes… he leaned in for the kiss...and poof!”

She made a gesture as if sprinkling dust into the air. “They both suddenly saw color in their first kiss, _ever_.”

“Awww…” the other girl crooned. “That’s so adorable.”

The corner of Hongbin’s lips quirked up a little. He had to admit, at least to himself, that story was cute.

“I can’t imagine what that must’ve felt like though, skirting around each other all those years just _worrying._ Imagine all that anxiety bubbling up! Risking your hearts out without knowing! _”_ she gasped audibly. “Can you imagine _if they hadn’t matched?_ The heartbreak!”

“But, honestly, it’s sounds like a fairytale. Their high school love turns out to be their eternal love.”

“Ugh, some people are extremely lucky.”

Deciding that he’s heard enough gossip in this morning to last the week, he chose ‘Wildflower’ from Park Hyoshin, his favorite ballad singer (‘Bin-ah, you have his whole discography...’ his roommate Wonshik once said in awe) and the melody flooded into his earphones. It drowned out all other noise, leaving him to admire the pale blue of the morning sky outside the cafe window.

These kind of stories were common to hear but he wasn’t very interested in all of it. Sometimes on unbearable days,  when the stories made him uncomfortable, Hongbin relied on his trusty earphones as a vacuum against the world.

There was an ancient magic embedded deep within the earth where from birth, people only saw the world in black and white. No one knew where this magic originated from, only that it was a universal way of living. That all would change, however, when they touched their soulmates. Some people spent their lives searching for their soulmates; most got to find their other halves while some weren’t so lucky in their lifetime.

No one understood why such magic existed but it was a universal truth.

However, for Lee Hongbin, seeing color has always been his ‘default’ _..._

...but he didn’t know who his soulmate was.

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	2. one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hongbin is a little done with Hakyeon and his shenanigans.

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 **. one .** ****

_‘And I don’t want the world to see me,_  
‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand,  
When everything’s meant to be broken,  
I just want you to know who I am. ’

 

— Goo Goo Dolls, ‘Iris'

 

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_Snap!_

Lee Hongbin pulled the camera away from his face, checking through the preview screen. A smile crept onto his lips as he saw he managed to capture a good angle of the leaves shading the white cat’s face hidden in the foliage. The vibrant green hues of the leaves were blurry but contrasted nicely against the chalky white of the Siamese cat’s fur.

Its sparkling blue eyes looked up at him curiously as it gently walked out of the bushes.

He crouched, offering a hand to the cat to let it sniff his fingers. The cat raised its eyes slowly at him before it nuzzled against his palm, making him smile.

“I'm sorry I don't have any food.” He apologized to the feline as it blinked up at him once more. “I promise I'll bring some if I see you again.”

The cat blinked at him, and he humored himself by thinking that was cat code for ‘okay’.

_Bzzt! Bzzt!_

His phone vibrated loudly in his back pocket and he groaned when the cat mewled in surprise, skirting away from his hand. Sighing, he got up and fished the phone out of his pocket to read the caller ID: ‘annoying hyung’.

“Yes, Hakyeon-hyung?” he asked exasperatedly in lieu of a hello.

 He heard muffled shuffling in the background as if someone was folding a massive bedsheet.

  _“Lee Hongbin, where are you?”_ Hakyeon answered.

 Rolling his eyes, Hongbin spun on his heel and picked up his backpack, which he’d placed leaning against a nearby tree. He propped his knee up as leverage to gently put back his camera into the bag.

 “I’m in the studio,” he lied.

  _“No, you're not.”_ Hakyeon rebutted and he heard a swish of a fabric too. _“I called Wonshik earlier, he said you left about two hours ago.”_

 “Ah—wh—seriously?!”

  _“Bin-ah!”_ Hakyeon whined.

 Hongbin bit his lip and mumbled. “Sorry. Why are you looking for me, hyung?”

 There was a pause, which instantly made him furrowed his brows. He heard Hakyeon let out a nervous chuckle. _“I need your help.”_

 “Uh oh…” He said. “What is it now?”

 Hongbin shouldered his backpack and idly paced. The cat’s eyes followed his steps, trailing after his ankles.

  _“Wait… you're taking photos again, aren't you?”_ Hakyeon deadpanned.

 “Excuse you, hyung…” Hongbin protested. “...but I'm allowed to have a hobby!”

  _“Albeit, a very strange hobby.”_

 Hongbin scoffed. “Says the guy who constantly goes out on blind dates every weekend just to f—”

  _“Like I said—,”_ Hakyeon hastily interrupted, clearly miffed which made Hongbin chuckle. _“—I need your help.”_

 “With what?” He whined. “Go get Wonshik instead! It's a beautiful day and I intend to get as many photos as I want!”

  _“No, I really_ need _your help, uh…”_ Hakyeon hesitated.

 That made Hongbin's ears perk up. Hakyeon was a physical embodiment of _‘just-do-it!’_ attitude so seeing him like this was . . . intriguing.

 “Is that..” Hongbin laughed. “... _hesitation?”_

  _“Hush.”_ Hakyeon hissed.

 “Cha Hakyeon, _hesitating?”_

  _“Do not make fun of me, Lee Hongbin.”_

 He laughed before he could stop himself. “I’m not!”

  _“You're lying!”_ Hakyeon yelled, outraged and it made Hongbin laugh harder.

 Trying (and failing) to stifle his chuckles, Hongbin moved to sit on the concrete steps of the park, looking around to bask in the beauty of the clear blue skies. The white cat crawled onto his lap, eagerly nuzzling against his phone-free arm and lulled him to a sense of peace with nature. Stroking the cat’s head ardently, Hongbin smiled softly . . . it was a really beautiful day.

 “What do you need my help for?” he prodded.

  _“I need you to help me pick out an outfit for tonight.”_ Hakyeon said hurriedly that Hongbin had to strain his ears for a bit.

 Blinking, he scratched the underside of the cat's chin, causing it to purr with satisfaction.. “Hyung… I don't think you need me for that? You don't have a problem with your fashion sense.”

  _“Ah…”_ he heard a tiny chuckle and Hongbin detected a hint of sheepishness as Hakyeon added, _“I've got a problem . . . with color.”_

 Instantly, Hongbin shot up. “WHAT?”

 The cat hissed angrily at his abrupt movement and scurried away in a fit. Hongbin pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. He practically felt Hakyeon’s nervousness emanating through the line.

 “Seriously, hyung…” he groaned earnestly.

  _“Please, Hongbin, I really wanna look good!”_ Hakyeon begged. _“I just don't trust myself with a potentially big moment. Besides…”_ all of a sudden, Hakyeon’s voice softened noticeably. _“...something will probably happen...right?”_

 Hongbin sighed deeply, trying not let himself be so surprised. In all the years he’d known Hakyeon, he sometimes forget how _hopeful_ Hakyeon was when it came to meeting new people.

 It was because of magic.

 “Hyung, you can't seriously be expecting every date you'd go on, you'll _magically_ find your soulmate. Pun _not_ intended!” Hongbin reasoned even though he figured it was futile; he knew with every fibre of his body that Hakyeon was an utterly and completely hopeless romantic.

 “Not to mention, you keep harassing me to help you pick out your outfits.” Hongbin added huffily when he felt Hakyeon was practically ready to mewl indignantly at him. “And stop buying new clothes! Your wardrobe is already overcrowded as it is! Honestly, what's point of buying new clothes when you can't even see color?”

 Hakyeon grunted with mild frustration. _“One,  fashion is a constant fleeting entity to chase so you need to keep up with the times, duh…”_ he emphasized the last syllable like it should've been obvious. _“Two, we've been through this so many times! If you're allowed to have your weird photography hobby, I'm allowed to shop for new clothes not limited to be worn on just on Blind Dates.”_

 Hongbin rolled his eyes.

  _“...and three, if you do this for me, I'll buy you fried chicken from that corner shop on my street that you love.”_

 Slapping a hand to his face, Hongbin cursed at himself for the betraying images of the juicy BBQ chicken springing to his mind’s eyes. When he didn't live on campus like he currently was, he used to drag Hakyeon there every other weekend.

  _“Four, it's not wrong to dream.”_ Hakyeon’s voice softened again, this time with a hint that was like of a wounded puppy and Hongbin breathed heavily through the nose.

 He shuffled a little, kicking the grass almost petulantly like a child having to do what he didn't want to by his parent.

 “...fine.” he groaned resignedly.

  _“Huh?”_ Hakyeon asked, surprised.

 “I’ll help you color-match.”

  _“Yay!”_ the older cheered gleefully. “Alright... Can you come over at 8? My date is 9.30 tonight.”

 Hongbin raised his arm, tugging the sleeve of his sweater back to check his watch. The time was a quarter to six; he actually had some work to do at the studio . . . but . . . the thought of free food was greatly enticing him. He supposed he could spend the remaining hours of the evening before heading back to take a shower.

 Then, he figured he'd have enough time to take the bus back to campus.

 “Order the specials with garlic bread and I'll be there at 7.30.” He clarified.

 Hakyeon chuckled heartily. _“Done! Did I ever mention how much I love you?”_

 “Say it with chicken, _lots_ of chicken.” Hongbin said, smiling wryly. “See you later, hyung.”

 “See you, Binnie!”

 There was a soft click and the call ended.

 

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_He first started seeing color when he was five years old._

_He was in a playground, chasing after a large pale Retriever that liked to lick him. It licked him eagerly and he giggled, dimples flashing as he went to pet its soft fur. Several kids were running around him, swinging on monkey bars and sprinting past the sand pits._

_One or two kids curiously stared at him playing with the dog along with a few parents, either watching serenely or engrossed with conversation. His own mother was talking to their neighbor, two slender women cooing at the sound of Hongbin’s high-pitched squeals when the dog nuzzled him._

  _A kid jogged up towards them and yelled. “Rocky!”_

  _The dog looked up and wagged its tail excitedly. Hongbin turned to see a boy with squishy cheeks, a large mop of dark hair, narrow eyes with a crease in his brow hurrying over to where he and the dog stood. Two girls who had been playing with the boy, followed suit in a little jog,  eyes twinkling at the sight of Rocky. One of them had extremely rosy cheeks while the other had a gap tooth as she grinned._

_“Rocky… is he your dog?” Hongbin squeaked excitedly._

_“Rocky’s a she!” he whined, hugging the dog by the neck._

_“Rocky isn't a girl's name!” the girl with a gap tooth said._

_“Yes, it is!” the other boy argued._

  _Rocky wagged her tail eagerly at the constant mentions of her name, she started licking at her owner’s face. Hongbin squealed in delight before Rocky turned to the girls, barking when they started squirming. She reared up slightly, putting her paws onto Hongbin’s small chest._

 " _Whoa!” he cried out at his balance thrown off._

  _Before he could fall, the other boy and the girl with rosy cheeks gripped both of his forearms to pull him back and the most extraordinary thing happened, which would haunt Hongbin till his dying days._

  _A rush came coming through him; a buzzing shooting from his fingertips to his head and washing all the way back down his body like vigorous waves crashing onto the sand of his core. He blinked slowly, drinking in this bizarre yet mesmerizing feeling of unknown magic roaring inside._

_Suddenly, there was . . ._

_He wasn't sure what to call it but the dark monotones patches of his vision slowly dissipated. Surprise swelled inside his chest as he saw . . . strange somethings. The grass was no longer black and the playground’s hard mat scattered greys morphed into something-not-grey. Rocky’s fur was no longer pale nor were his new shoes. The familiar colors retreated rapidly, sucked into a vortex he could not see and it was regurgitating all these unknown shades in his sight._

_His eyes nearly hurt from the sensory overload. He wasn't too sure what he was seeing but everything was so vibrant._

_It scared him._

_However, there was an underlying burst of joy mixed with the roar of magic inside him and he burst out giggling, feeling it tickle the fibre of his bones with a feathery sensation as if the seeds in his core wanted to bloom._

_This was so new; seeing all this vibrancy, spectacular hues and visual overload; it made him exuberant. He began running in earnest joy, chasing after Rocky, not noticing the other boy had stilled and nearly knocked into him . . . but Hongbin didn’t care. The magic opened a new world to him, tasting like honey as he tried to look everything, savoring this sweet sensation. The two girls started to chase after him, starting a game of tag._

_His world that was once pale and dark had vanished, replaced like he was wearing new eyes._

_“Ack!”_

_As they ran towards the tall grass at the end of the playground, Hongbin’s toe stubbed and he skidded forward, scraping his knees as he fell. Rocky whimpered in panic and there were tears stinging in Hongbin’s eyes as he rolled over, seeing the skin on both of his knees had tore open. He was used to falling down for he was clumsy but the sight of his blood, taking a vivid shade aside from the usual black, rattled his nerves._

_He started to cry._

_“Are you okay?” the other boy asked, trying to grab his hand._

_Hongbin didn't wanted to be touched; he pulled his hand away as he wailed at the horrific pain stinging at his knees. This magic didn’t only magnified the beauty; it reminded him of the unpleasant things that existed too._

_“Hongbin?” he heard the faint sound of his mother's voice._

_He lifted his head, searching for her. He looked at the other boy, wanting to ask something but the look on the boy's face scared him. His gaze was fixated on something behind Hongbin, his eyes widened with horror before he burst into broken sobs._

_Hongbin turned and what he saw made his blood turn cold._

_A large snake, as the darkest black as Hongbin thought he’d never see again, was slithering between the tall grass and it had poked its head out. It bared its fangs, glaring at them intensely with its vivid eyes—red eyes, Hongbin would learn years later._

_“Hongbin!” he heard his mother's shriek._

_In a blink, his mother seized him up into his arms and the other boy was picked up by a tall man, presumably his father. The snake ducked back into the tall grass and Rocky started chasing after it, barking._

_“Rocky!” the boy shouted._

_“Rocky!” the father echoed. “Come back, girl!”_

_Before Hongbin could watch anymore, his mother turned away, clutching him tightly in her arms. In the soothing warmth of her arms, he started to sob again, hiding his face into the navy cotton of her blouse._

_“Ssh... It's okay, Bean…” she whispered tenderly. “Beannie… the snake's gone…”_

_“M-mommy…” he croaked between tiny sobs._

_“Mommy’s here,”_

_She placed her cheek against his head, stroking his curls as she picked up her bag from the bench and walked home. Throughout the short walk, Hongbin’s sobs lessened as she softly shushed him, holding him tightly. By the time he heard the familiar click of their house gate opening, he finally pulled his head away from her shoulder._

_The small garden they had came into his view, bursting with so many flowers and the tiny kitty statues he knew her mother littered all over the grass for him to play during evenings. This was home . . ._

_Instantly, the sight of it made the turbulent nerves within his torso slowly lulled to a halt. She gently placed him on the rocking chair on the patio, bending down to look at his scraped knees._

_“I'll clean that for you, Bean…”_

_She disappeared briefly and Hongbin sniffed, hugging the pillow his father always left on the rocking chair whenever he took naps outside._

_Moments later, his mother returned with a first aid kit._

_“Mommy…” he called out with his voice hoarse from crying._

_“Yes, Bean?”_

_"What's this?” he pointed at the liquid trickling down his pale leg._

  _That's blood, Bean.”_

  _He shook his head; he knew it was blood but what is it? “It’s not dark.”_

  _That made his mother halt in her reach to grab the antiseptic and cotton swabs._

  _“...What?” She asked._

  _“It was dark but now it’s not.” he said, pointing to a small broken plant pot. “Last time I hit that pot, the blood used to be dark…”_

  _It was an incident that happened a few months ago; a cat knocked one of his mother's garden pots one morning. Hongbin saw the feline scrambling but did not hear the crash. He tried chasing after it but didn’t see where he was running . . ._

  _“Bean…” she hesitated._

  _He looked up into her worried eyes._

  _“Did you stop...seeing black and white?”_

 

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_Knock! Knock!_

Hongbin stood before the closed door, ruffling his hair with one hand as he waited, feeling refreshed. He glanced at his wristwatch, reading the time as 7.22 pm. Okay, he was slightly early but he was famished and his stomach had started its own orchestra on the way here. Suddenly, he heard a flurry of hurried footsteps and the door flung open.

“Hongbin!” Hakyeon practically pounced on him for a hug.

He flinched at the abrupt attack, stiffening as Hakyeon wrapped his arms around him. Hakyeon smelled thickly like his shower gel, strawberries and vanilla, with his hair still damp and his skin still cool. Hongbin’s nose scrunches up a little from the invasion of smell, thinking that the years should’ve made him immune to Hakyeon’s hug attacks but he felt that it made him more . . . awkward.

He gently nudged the older aside, starting to feel mildly suffocated by the excessive touching and the obnoxious scent from Hakyeon..

“Hyung, keep your koala tendencies to yourself please.” He said, wryly.

Hakyeon pouted. “Rude.”

Hongbin snickered but nonetheless, Hakyeon pulled away to let him inside the dorm room. It was a quaint room for one, fairly neat, except for the messy desk drowning under a stack of books and papers (‘The Regulations of Steel Frame Construction and—,’ Hongbin read of a paper peeking out from one of the binders) and the collapsable dinner table Hakyeon bought for more table space—mainly for eating and guests—was pulled out in the center.

“FOOD!” Hongbin hollered, instantly dropping his backpack onto Hakyeon’s bed.

“Hey!” Hakyeon scolded when Hongbin rushed  for the box. “Wash your hands first!”

Hongbin pouted, which made Hakyeon's eyes narrow at him. He rarely pouted (or did anything vaguely cute willingly) but he knew Hakyeon couldn't resist whenever he did. He wanted to laugh at the pinched look on Hakyeon’s face as he slowly opened the lid of the box.

“Lee Hongbin…” he said threateningly as Hongbin’s hand touched the box.

Hongbin glared back petulantly as he started opening the sides of the box, unravelling it.

“ _Hongbin._ ” Hakyeon’s tone was clipped.

Pouting more determinedly, Hongbin slowly started to dip his hands into the box. Hakyeon punched him firmly on the arm and snatched the box away, making Hongbin whine at the loss.

“You are _not_ eating these fried chickens with dirty fingers!” Hakyeon yelled. “For fuck's sake, wash your hands, you dirty heathen!”

Hongbin huffed, rubbing his sore arm before he moved to the bathroom. Hakyeon's dorm had an apartment-like layout where every ‘apartment’ had five bedroom conjoining to a small kitchen and a large bathroom shared by everyone in the apartment. He washed his hands quickly using the sink in the common room-cum-kitchen and rushed back, finding the box had been put back onto the table and Hakyeon was now going through the clothes in his wardrobe.

Hongbin sat down, taking a bite out of the fried chicken and very nearly moaned with bliss.

The fried chicken was still hot, juicy as he remembered and it felt like a small piece of heaven in his hands. Hakyeon had put all the garlic bread pieces onto a clean plastic plate and there were two cups filled with water.

“Jeez, Bin-ah...” Hakyeon snorted. “...you look like you're having an orgasm,”

“Orgasm in my mouth,” Hongbin replied with a mouthful.

Hakyeon grimaced. “Don't talk with your mouth full, you dunce. Which of these is the best on me?”

He pulled out a simple cream sweater, an old but still pristine clothing Hongbin figured Hakyeon only wore for special occasions, and a red flannel shirt.

“Pull out some jeans, hyung.” Hongbin said, licking one of his fingers. “...try to pair them off.”

He eagerly ate his chicken, watching Hakyeon through his rows of clothes.

“By the way, who set you up for tonight?” Hongbin asked.

Hakyeon grinned. “Wonshik.”

“Oh?” Hongbin stopped mid-bite, truly surprised. “Since when did he start playing matchmaker?”

He chuckled. “I dunno but he's gonna introduce me to this girl named Hana. She's a med student and tonight's gonna be a group affair. He's gonna be there as well.”

Hongbin’s eyes widened further. “That's...new. You never do group dates.”

Hakyeon laid a pair of skinny jeans down carefully, shrugging as he smiled. “I figured it's a good time to experiment because why not?”

Contemplating, Hongbin continued munching as he processed this sudden decision Hakyeon made. As optimistic as Hakyeon was, he did not change his mind easily on a whim even if it was a gut feeling. He has been going on blind dates for a while now but what made him suddenly decide now of all times to try a group date? Sensing something amiss, Hongbin theorized that perhaps the older wasn't telling everything on his mind.

“Why then?” he prodded, wiping his fingers with a tissue. “Enlighten me.”

Hakyeon absently scratched his head. “One-on-one speed dating can be kinda tiring… That's all.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Yeah, sorry, can't relate.” Hongbin added dryly.

Hakyeon half-heartedly threw a clothes' hanger at him which Hongbin dodged easily, laughing. “You poor single person.”

“Hush, you raging bisexual.”

Hakyeon glared, dropping all pretenses of maturity and stuck out his tongue at Hongbin, earning himself a piece of crumpled dirty tissue thrown by the latter.  

“So, what's so different then?” Hongbin sat cross-legged on the chair, licking his fingers.

“Well, speed dating and group dating are a little different. People who do group dates are more relaxed and casual because they wanna make new friends.” Hakyeon explained, sitting on his bed. “Speed dating is what it is; some people like what they see, some don't. But essentially, people who speed-date are actively looking to find their soulmates.”

“Whoa.” he said. “So you've met such people?”

“Of course, I have, Hongbin..” Hakyeon answered, not unkindly. “It's not an uncommon thing. Sometimes, I hear stories of people who aren't subtle about it either.”

“What do you mean?” he asked curiously.

“Some of them can be quite nice, they'd be a little bummed when they find out you're not their soulmate but they still remain friends. Others…” Hakyeon trailed off, eyes casting down to his fingers. “...they'd touch you once and just leave when they didn't suddenly see color.”

Hongbin stopped chewing, confounded. That sounded harsh.

He swallowed, “...you haven't...experienced that before...right, hyung?”

Hakyeon smiled but Hongbin noticed instantly it didn't reach his eyes. “Well… I’d be lying if I say I didn't understand their frustration.” Hakyeon said, seemingly nonchalant.

Hongbin’s jaw dropped. “Hyung…”

“No, no, no, it's okay, Ho—,”

“Who the fuck is that asshole? Should I stab their eyes out with a spork?” Hongbin exclaimed in a rare fit of indignance and it made Hakyeon’s heart swell with warmth. “Or rusty metal chopsticks?!”

“Aw, Bin, it really is okay… Besides, it was months ago.”

Hongbin pouted like he still wanted to be furious, which brought a strong sense of cute aggression to Hakyeon. Biting his lip, he relented with a fondly resigned sigh and got up from the bed to eagerly press Hongbin’s cheeks between his palms, venting out his cuteness-driven frustrations. As he expected, the younger recoiled indignantly but Hakyeon cackled at the intended effect; Hongbin no longer looked tense.

“He wasn't cute anyway.”  Hakyeon smiled lopsidedly, smoothing Hongbin’s fringe.

“Still…” Hongbin fell back, gently swatting the hand away with a small frown. “It isn't courteous to just walk out on a date even if you _were_ expecting to find your soulmate.”

There was downcast look in Hakyeon’s eyes and the corner of his lip quirked bitterly. “Yeah, it isn't.”

“Hyung…” he nudged, holding out a small piece of chicken to him.

Hakyeon smiled, taking it gratefully. Food sharing was the highest gesture of affection he could ever get from Hongbin. They ate for a moment, enjoying the delicious food and the comfortable silence.

“So...a group date?” Hongbin prompted again.

Hakyeon nodded, licking some sauce from the corner of his mouth. “I'm told she's going to be bringing some of her friends and Wonshik said a few of his studiomates will be joining us too. It sounds like it’ll be lots of fun. Besides, Wonshik had us exchange photos. She's really cute.”

“Hmm…” Hongbin hummed, not sure how to respond.

He never really liked socializing with people. Growing up most of his life being able to see color has had some . . . unpleasant drawbacks of its own.

Sometimes, he admired Hakyeon’s tenacity to take a leap of faith every time he went on a blind date even if he felt that kind of bravery was foolish . . . but he wasn't going to say that to Hakyeon’s face.

“Did he say where you guys are going to meet up?”

“Some club in Itaewon.” Hakyeon answered, taking a piece of tissue to wipe his fingers. “I don’t think I know where it’ll be but we all agreed to get dinner before we go clubbing.”

“Hmm,” Hongbin hummed. “Have you decided what sort of vibe you wanna go for?”

“A what now?” Hakyeon asked, eyebrow raised.

“A _vibe,_ grandpa.” He repeated. “Y'know, when you wanna go somewhere, you'd set up a ‘vibe’ of your look… like a mood.”

“Then, why not call it a ‘mood’?”

“Eh, ‘mood’ is applicable too but I like ‘vibe’ more, it sounds trendier.” Hongbin explained, gesturing with a drumstick in hand.

Hakyeon briefly contemplated about it before he got up. “Okay, then. So, I just have to pick one?”

“Yeah, pick up a vibe for me to work with.” Hongbin explained. “I can roughly pick out some color schemes from your wardrobe and pick your outfit.”

“Are you gonna put makeup on me?” Hakyeon asked, trying to stifle a smile.

He groaned at this, recalling the one time he was forced to put makeup on Hakyeon . . . It did not end well.

“Say that one more time,” he jabbed exasperatedly with the half-eaten drumstick. “. . . and I will _never_ color-match you ever again.”

Hakyeon doubled over, cackling maniacally as Hongbin resolutely finished his food. The sooner he helped out Hakyeon, the quicker he could escape his suffering.

 

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_His mother told him about what it meant, years later._

_Most parents did not tell their kids about the magic of color and soulmates when they’re young. His mother, Hyeri, didn’t want to hide it from her son not because she feared he wouldn’t understand it what it meant . . . but she feared what would happen after he did._

_“Mom…” Eleven-year-old Hongbin asked, sitting in his father’s rocking chair. “...why do people see color after they’ve touched their soulmate?”_

_“No one really knows, love.” She said, running a hair through his long curly locks. He'd probably need a haircut soon. “Not everything magical is understood very well.”_

_He pulled up his knees to his chin, absently tracing the old scar imprinted in his knees from when he fell so many years ago. It was the same scar he'd received when that snake appeared. There was a crease of worry in his brows and she tried to smooth it out gently with a finger, which made him smile at her . . . but it didn’t reach his eyes._

_She had been getting reports from his homeroom teacher that the other kids had found out Hongbin could see color . . . Hongbin hasn’t really said anything to explain the bruises or tiny cuts at his elbows or his knees. She knew he was slightly clumsy but the small fading purples and blues on his pale skin made her concerned._

_“When did you and dad first see color?”_

_He had asked this question multiple times but she never minded his repetitiveness. She liked indulging this story to him, even though she has probably repeated it more than a dozen times._

_It always made him smile, just a little bit._

_“It was during our final year in college.” She recounted, smiling with dimples that matched his. “Your dad and I were out with a couple of close friends, walking down this lane of cherry blossom trees by the lake. There was a festival nearby and there was this group of very impatient old ladies that just barrelled their way through the crowd . . . because they could.”_

_Hongbin chuckled, leaning against her._

_She resumed stroking his hair, continuing. “So, one of the boisterous old ladies nearly ran me over and I fell on top of your dad.”_

_She groaned at the memory of it, which made Hongbin laugh harder. “It was embarrassing! It was in public too! So when we were scrambling to get up, your dad gave me his hand and . . . well,” She smiled._

_Hongbin had a serene look on his face and she knew he had probably memorized this part._

_“As soon as we touched, the color just seeped in,” she said. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget how it felt. The magic felt spectacular . . . weird but spectacular. It was like feeling your stomach was ready to burst, butterflies up to your fingertips and cotton in your head.” She laughed at her own description._

_He looked at her, watching the corners of her eyes crinkle and he had a fleeting thought, ‘will I ever look like that?’_

_“That sounds nice.” he mumbled, mostly to himself._

 

_._

_._

_._

 

“Okay, I should probably get going.” Hakyeon said.

Hongbin didn’t even bother to lift his head up from the pillow he was lying on atop the older’s bed. He peered at Hakyeon, who was smoothing out his already impeccable fringe. He was wearing a striped navy shirt over a plain dark plum turtleneck with skinny black jeans. His belt was white, visibly contrasting and he wore two rings on his left hand.

“Does my hair look okay?”

“Yes, hyung…” Hongbin drawled without even looking up.

Hakyeon made a face, shoving Hongbin’s legs out of the way so he could sit on the edge of the bed to put on his socks. “Aren't you a slob… you sleep in my bed after eating.”

Hongbin sat up, narrowing his eyes. “I helped clean your dinner table, your study table _and_ even color-matched for you. I even washed the freaking plate you left rotting under those books, hyung. Don't make me kill your ass.”

“Touchy, touchy.” Hakyeon cooed, shaking his head. “You can be awfully cranky when you're full. Usually, the effect is opposite for everyone.”

“Let me have a moment’s peace.” Hongbin groaned, rolling over to cuddle one of Hakyeon’s pillows. “It isn't easy to color-match for such a picky customer.”

Hakyeon chuckled. “I'm your client? That's very sweet, considering you say I'm the only one you'd color-match for.”

“Please, keep flattering yourself.” Hongbin said, sarcastically.

Patting down the seams of his jeans against his ankles, Hakyeon stood up and looked at himself again in the mirror. Hongbin glanced at the clock on the wall, it read 9.14 pm, and briefly closed his eyes. Hakyeon would have to go soon, which consequently meant he'd have to leave as well.

“Thanks for this, Bin-ah.” Hakyeon patted his propped knee gratefully.

He raised a hand lazily, vaguely waving dismissively in lieu of acknowledgment. Hakyeon chuckled and Hongbin heard the sound of the older’s feet shuffling to his table, rustling until there was a chiming of keys. That was his cue.

He sat up, pleasantly swaying with just how full he was from eating all the chicken.

“If I ever go on another group date…” Hakyeon began, almost startling Hongbin out of his stupor. “...why don't you tag along?”

He nearly blanched.

“Hyung…” he absently ruffled his hair, fixing it from lying down too long. “...I think I'll pass.”

“Why not, Bin-ah?” Hakyeon's tone was almost whining.

Hongbin didn't really want to answer it and his actions translated it well; he didn't look at Hakyeon's direction, eyes resting on the corkboard nailed above the end of the bed. There was a small framed portrait of Hakyeon and his parents, a few of him with Hongbin from their younger days at high school pinned into the board and two pictures of the two of them with Wonshik, both laughing and cringing as Hakyeon smushed both of them closer to him.

“Because I don't want to,” Hongbin answered, slowly getting off the bed.

“But you'll meet lots of people.” Hakyeon said, matter-of-factly.

“You and Wonshik are already a handful.” he deadpanned.

“Aww, so you do care about us.” Hakyeon cooed. “Seriously though, Hongbin, it won't hurt to meet new people and make new friends.”

“Hmm…” Hongbin hummed disinterestedly, grabbing his socks placed next to his bag and started to put them on.

“You could probably find your soulmate.” Hakyeon added.

Hongbin stifled a sigh. “Not interested, hyung.”

Hakyeon raised his hands up, almost in a gesture of defeat. “Okay, I'll drop it...but who knows if you'll change your mind.”

He rolled his eyes but managed to put on both of his socks. Kneeling, he craned and reached for his backpack before climbing out of bed. Hakyeon started flipping the switches off in the room and Hongbin shouldered his backpack, folding his hands patiently.

“You're going back to your dorm?” Hakyeon said.

“Yeah.”

“Want me to drop you off?” he said, already fishing out his car keys.

Hongbin shook his head. “Nah, I need to buy some stuff on the way back.”

“Okay,” Hakyeon grinned, pulling Hongbin into a hug, which instantly made the latter squirm.

“Hyung…” Hongbin groaned, disgruntled.

“Get back to the dorm safely.” The older piped at him, pulling away slightly. “Text me when you get back.”

“Yes, mom.”

Hakyeon raised a brow. “Real mature, Hongbin.”

Hongbin shrugged out of Hakyeon’s loose grip. “See you, hyung. Have fun at the group date with Wonshik. Don't drink too much!”

“Excuse you, I hold my liquor very well.” Hakyeon said, indignantly.

“Yeah, sure.” Hongbin chuckled.

“Bye, Bin-ah!” Hakyeon called out as the younger descended the stairs. “I'll text you later.”

“Hm!”

Hongbin waved goodbye without looking back.


	3. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Designated drivers are a sham . . . only in the case of Wonshik, Hakyeon and their babysitter.

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 **. two .** **  
**  


_‘My heart is like a Stallion._

_They love it more when it's broken.’_

 

— Fall Out Boy, ‘Alone Together'

.

_Ring-ring! Ring-ring!_

“Hello?” Hongbin said into his ringing phone, cradling it into the crook of his shoulder.

There was a pause on the other line as Hongbin dragged the graphite ‘H’ pencil down the page; he had been in the midst of drawing when eventually, a slurred voice answered. _“Bin-ah!”_

Hongbin furrowed his eyes, straining his ears. He heard the faint sound of loud percussion drums and synth music; the recognizable sound of dubstep music . . . and there was voices shouting in the background. He looked at the caller ID again, not having read it the first time when he picked up instinctively: _‘annoying hyung’._

“...Hyung?” He tried again.

 _“Bin-ah!”_ Hakyeon shouted, nearly making Hongbin deaf. _“Bin-ah, Bin-ah! The missin’ man of the hour!”_

Dropping his pencil, Hongbin raised a brow. “Hyung… you’re drunk. Why are you drunk?”

 _“No, I’m not d-drunk!”_ Hakyeon let out a hysterical laugh, which confirmed Hongbin’s speculations that he wasn’t only drunk; he was _hammered. “You should’ve joined us a-at this par-taaaaaay! Your pretty face is needed in the cluuuuuuub!”_

Hongbin groaned, shaking his head. “Hyung, who is gonna be driving you—.”

“ _Is that Hongbin?”_ He heard a vaguely familiar voice in the background, layered with the thumping music that was making his head pulse through the phone. He heard the shuffling of the phone being passed and another slurry, deeper voice saying, _“Bin-ah! Bin-ah! Is your butt stapled to your table?”_

“Wonshik, not you too…” Hongbin said, exasperatedly.

 _“You’re a bean pooper, Bin-ah! Get it? Bean-pooper!”_ Wonshik hollered as if it was hilarious. _“You big meanie! You love your papers more than me!”_

“Wonshik, you’re drunk too.” Sighing dejectedly, Hongbin got up from his messy drafting table—filled with layers of taped drawings and eraser shavings—and headed towards his bed, picking up the black jacket he’d laid there.

“ _You never hang out with us!”_ Wonshik whined loudly. _“Why? W-Why? WH—,”_

He pulled the phone away from his ear and stifled a sigh; Wonshik was unbearably clingy when he got drunk. After Wonshik's bouts of wailings, Hongbin strained his ears again, hearing more shuffling and muffled noises of protests in the midst of the atrocious music. As he grabbed onto his jacket, the scuffles on the other line ceased and he heard Hakyeon’s voice.

 _“Wonshik, you clingy brat!”_ Hakyeon scolded. _“I miss Hongbin too!”_

 _“_ You just saw me earlier, hyung.” Hongbin deadpanned, putting the call on speaker mode.

He pulled off his baggy white T-shirt before     quickly rummaging through his closet. It was a nuisance that he had to look presentable to go to a club and save their drunk asses at—

“What time is it?” Hongbin asked, absentmindedly.

 _“Party time!”_ Hakyeon whooped loudly that made Hongbin’s phone buzz. _“Free drinks all night! Woohoo!”_

Hongbin checked the clock on his table and blanched so hard he nearly choked on his own spit, seeing the time read as _2.52 AM._ He hadn’t realized it’d been _that_ late.

“Hyung, how are you gonna come back to your dorm? You can't drive.”

_“Ah, that being said...can you come pick us up? Pretty puh-lease!”_

“Is _no one_ at your group date sober enough to drive?” he asked with a twinge of concern.

_“Nope!”_

Hongbin bit down his lip, fighting the want to strangle the living daylights out of both of them. Seizing a simple navy sweater and a pair of black skinny jeans that he deemed were enough to let him into a club, he hastily started to change his clothes.

“ _Some of the group left earlier but whoops! We've got no designated drivers with us!”_

“Hyung,” he said, taking off his comfy sweatpants. “Which club are you at?”

“ _I neeeeed you baaaaaabbyyy—,”_ Hakyeon abruptly shrieked. _“—if it’s quite all riiiiiiight—,”_

“Hyung.” Hongbin stressed his words again, zipping up his pants and tugging his navy sweater down. “Where are you?”

 _“I need you baaaaaaaabbyy—,”_ he kept on and even heard Wonshik’s voice nasally joining as well in the background. _“—to warm a lonely niiiiight.”_

“Hyung, I thought you texted me that Wonshik isn’t supposed to get drunk.”  He picked up his phone, switching the speaker mode off. “Wasn’t he the designated driver?”

_“I waaaaaas!”_

Hongbin sighed deeply and looked back at his bedroom almost forlornly, his bed was neatly made yet his table was a chaotic mess of paper layered over paper, rolls of masking tape stacked haphazardly and stationery littered everywhere.

He looked longingly at the big pillow propped against the back of the chair and his art tools tucked into a corner.

 _“He lost a drinking match to Sanghyuk!”_ Hakyeon said between chuckles. _“He nearly dropped some vodka on my shirt! Bad Shikkie!”_

He heard the sound of a slap, a faint yelp and unknown people burst out laughing. Was _everyone_ in their group date hammered out of their wits? Grabbing his wallet and keys from his desk before taking a quick glance at himself in the mirror, Hongbin assessed his appearance.

He looked tired, deep bags under his eyes and his hair unruly. He supposed he looked alright if he threw one of the many reflective and ridiculously expensive pair of shades Wonshik owned, hoping that he looked good enough to get admitted into a club.

 _“Bin-ah! You’re not listening!”_ Hakyeon whined.

“I’m still here.” He said, cradling his phone against his shoulder as he put on some socks.

 _“Bin-ah, I want you to meet Hana soon!”_ The older laughed. _“And her friends, Nayoung and Sejeong soon! Oh, you too, Sanghyuk! There's only a few of us here!”_

“Hyung,” Hongbin called out, putting on the other sock. “Where are you?”

 _“Are you coming to get us?!”_ Hakyeon practically chirped.

“Of course, neither you or Wonshik are fit to drive.” He hissed indignantly, already putting on his Converse shoes.

 _“Awwwww, you're a doll!”_ The older squealed. _“Tell us you love us!”_

“No.”

_“Why not?”_

“Just tell me where you are!” Hongbin’s patience was running thin with this hyung’s shenanigans.

 _“You only want me for my body!”_ Wonshik shouted, making the people in the back laugh again.

Pinching the bridge of his nose delicately, Hongbin sighed heavily. “For fuck’s sake—,”

Hakyeon gasped dramatically. _“You said a bad word, B—,”_

“Tell me where the fuck you are or so god help me, I will leave you two to rot at the club!” He said, trying to stifle his ire.

Hakyeon was about to say something but he heard a faint ‘hey!’ before there were more sounds of scuffling. Slipping his feet into his shoes and getting up, Hongbin walked out of his bedroom and into the common area of the small apartment dorm of 524 that Wonshik and Hongbin shared. He had barely closed the door of his bedroom behind him when he heard a voice spoke, utterly unfamiliar.

_“Hi, is this Wonshik’s roommate?”_

“Yes.” Hongbin said, brows furrowing. “Who’s this?”

 _“Sanghyuk!”_ Wonshik helpfully supplied in the background.

Hongbin heard the stranger chuckle. _“Yeah, okay, everyone is a little hammered right now and there's only Wonshik’s car left.”_ This stranger, Sanghyuk, replied with a slight slur to his voice. _“We’re at the_ Daydream _club here in Itaewon. It's the one with a cool robot’s head as the logo at the front.”_

“Finally!”

With an exasperated huff, Hongbin took out his dorm key and headed to the front door. “I’ll probably be there in 30. Make sure you get a hold of Wonshik’s keys since he’s klutzy when he’s drunk.”

 _“Roger that, captain!”_ Sanghyuk slurred before he started giggling.

Soon enough, he heard more scuffling and laughing as the phone was passed around. Hongbin rolled his eyes but ended the call, swinging open the front door. The dorm across him had its front door swung wide open, playing some music loud enough that he recognized was Park Hyoshin’s melodic voice immediately, and there stood Chanshik, hair pushed back with a hairband, with a book in hand.

“Where are you going?” He asked when Hongbin started locking the door behind him.

Hongbin asked in reply. “Why are you still up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Chansik shrugged nonchalantly.

Safely clicking the lock on the door, Hongbin pocketed his dorm key. “Hakyeon-hyung and Wonshik got smashed at this fucking hour and I’m collecting their drunk asses.”

Chanshik snorted. “That’s funny.”

“From your point of view, it is.” He deadpanned. “Try picking up their drunk, clingy and giggly butts from the club.”

“Be sure to carry a vomit bag.” Chuckling, Chanshik snapped his book shut.

“It’s Wonshik’s car, not mine.” He shrugged. “I’m not gonna bring one, he could vomit in there until it stinks. That’ll serve him right.”

“Oof, so cold. Good luck, Bin-ah.”

Hongbin blew a stray strand from his face, hanging Wonshik’s large Raybans on the collar of his jacket and quickly descended down the stairs of the dorm building.

.

.

.

_“Color freak.”_

_Violently shoved, fourteen-year-old Hongbin managed to brace himself by putting his hands out in front of him but the sting of pain dug hard into his skin. He turned a little, seeing the scratches in his knees and groaned slightly. His scars were going to get deeper. He looked to his left, seeing his glasses broken on the road._

_School had only just ended and he only just survived the mandatory after-school curriculum activities. The large pudgy bully who shoved him and his smaller gangly cronies hollered at the sight of Hongbin fumbling for his glasses, wincing when his palms stung as well. He sat up, blinking through unshed tears and staring pointedly at the school pavement. He barely made it out of the locker rooms._

_He looked at his hand, seeing the pale skin marred with angry red lines and purple spots._

_“Oh, look, the freak is crying.”_

_“What the hell?”_

_There was an unfamiliar deep voice and it made Hongbin look up in surprise. The pudgy bully recoiled at the sight of the tanned young lad who appeared from the corner of the building. The president badge on his vest glimmered slightly under the flap of his navy school jacket. Hongbin’s eyes widened with horror; he instantly recognized this person. He had been hoping that he’d avoid getting into trouble in front of his classmate._

_Today wasn’t his lucky day._

_“Fuck off, Wonshik.” The bully spat at the prefect, vehemently._

_Wonshik didn't even flinch, eyes narrowed into a livid glare. “Say that to me again, Kibum, and you and your gang’s asses will be stapled onto chairs in detention for a month.”_

_As if on cue, the gang erupted, barking laughter. Hongbin wanted to curse badly at how undeterred Wonshik looked, still standing stiffly when Kibum, the biggest, practically towered above him._

‘You idiot,’ _Hongbin thought._

_There was no way two smaller boys like him and Wonshik were going to be able to stand up against them._

_“Oh, yeah?” Kibum revealed his yellowing teeth in a nasty grin. “What are you going to do? Report me without proof?”_

_“He doesn’t need to.”_

_There was a second voice this time, more foreboding than Wonshik’s, and Hongbin nearly blanched. He had been hoping he’d escape the rest of the year without drawing attention to himself. Now, he had a class president_ and _the Head Boy saving his pathetic ass._

_“H-Hakyeon-hyung.” Kibum stammered._

_The Head Boy glared down at Kibum and it made Hongbin recoil; he had never seen his senior look so livid with a dark shadow over his usually cheery face._

_“I’ll be reporting you,” Hakyeon clarified calmly._

_“B-b-but—,” Kibum spluttered, turning pale_

_Wonshik’s sneer deepened. “Apologize.”_

_“I-I-I’m so-sorry, hyung.”_

_Hongbin slowly started to crawl, praying hard that he was inconspicuous to their eyes now that someone more important was in the picture. Maybe if he moved out of their line of sight, he'd be able to make a quick escape. The last thing he wanted was news spreading around campus that he was saved—_

_“Not to me…” Hakyeon’s voice was cold. “To him.”_

_Without warning, Wonshik kneeled and gently gripped Hongbin’s arm. He avoided the main parts where Hongbin was bruising and slowly got the young lad up to his shaky feet. Looking away, Hongbin fixed the straps of his bags and determinedly tried not to combust under the collective stares all boring down onto him like a tsunami washing over his very existence. He peered out of the corner of his eye, seeing Kibum trying not to grimace._

_“Sorry, freak.” He spat the word like it was venom._

_Wonshik snarled. “Hey! You little p—!”_

_“Enough.” Hakyeon halted, authoritatively. “Now, scram.”_

_Glaring, Kibum gestured at his cronies to start moving away. Hongbin took an intense interest in staring at the dirt clinging to the white of his shoes. He heard the shuffling of their feet but also felt the intensity of Hakyeon’s and Wonshik’s presences next to him. Suddenly, he felt a hand tapping his shoulder._

_“Hey…”_

_Surprised, he looked up without meaning to. Hakyeon looked at him, brows furrowed with concern and he wanted nothing more than to run away._

_“Hey, Hongbin…” Wonshik called out. “Why didn’t you tell me they’re the ones that have been bullying you all this while?”_

_“There’s been more than one occasion?” Hakyeon asked before Hongbin could deny anything._

_“Since the school year started.” Wonshik walked around to Hongbin’s side, gesturing at his knees._

_The crease in Hakyeon’s brow deepened even more. “That’s no g—,”_

_“I don’t need your help.” Hongbin blurted with more bite than he intended._

_Wonshik appeared genuinely affronted, recoiling in surprise at the harsh sting in his voice, but Hakyeon took him gently by the wrist, making an exaggeratedly eye-roll. “Nonsense. Everyone needs help.”_

‘Idiots.’ _Hongbin thought, looking between them._

_Hakyeon started pulling him, rapidly telling Wonshik on what to grab in the school infirmary where they kept the emergency kits. After hurriedly buying some band-aids and antiseptic, they forced Hongbin to sit at a park bench. Hakyeon carefully treated his wounds while Wonshik rambled, telling them that he'd get those wretched bullies’ asses into detention._

_“You'll need to clean those wounds,” Hakyeon said after applying the sixth band-aids on Hongbin’s knees._

_He pulled a face at the star-patterned band-aids covering his pale legs like bizarre constellations._

_“By the way, it's nice to meet you, Hongbin.” Hakyeon smiled._

_He raised a brow at his senior; it felt odd that he was introducing himself to Hongbin when Hongbin perfectly knew who he was… the Head Boy and potential valedictorian wasn't someone that went unnoticed in school._

_“Hello.” he said curtly, bowing as low as he could without flinching in pain._

_“Aish, don't do that.” Wonshik said with mild panic._

_“You'll just hurt yourself.” Hakyeon remarked._

_Hongbin looked at the both of them yet not making eye contact. “I'll be going home now. Thank you…”_

_“No problem,” Wonshik shrugged with a small smile. “C’mon, let’s walk you home.”_

_“That’s not necessary.”  he said, trying to stifle the panic in his tone._

_Hakyeon grinned brightly. “Yeah, that ain’t happening. Besides, we’re doing it so you’re not going to get chased down by Kibum and his creeps as soon as you step out of school boundaries.”_

_“Safety first.” Wonshik merely added as it was an adequate statement._

_Hongbin hesitated. “Why are you helping me?”_

_He flinched when he blurted out the question, instantly regretting it. Hakyeon’s and Wonshik’s face changed as well; the latter looked uncomfortable while the former smiled almost fondly at Hongbin._

_“You_ can _see color, right?” The Head Boy asked._

_Hongbin’s heart rose to his throat and he felt he was ready to be sick._

_“...yes,” he admitted with difficulty._

_“And rumor has it, you don’t know who’s your soulmate… Correct?”_

_Wonshik jumped slightly, eyes widening as he looked at Hakyeon. “Hyung…”_

_It was an extremely uncommon for someone to be able to see color without knowing who their soulmate was.  Some people hated their soulmates, such cases did exist, but at least they_ knew . . . _Hongbin was in the severe minority, especially at his age, and . . . in their world where people either saw black and white or color with their soulmates, he stuck out like a sore thumb._

_Hongbin wanted to scream at Hakyeon. There was a vicious roar ripping at the base of his throat, wanting to inflict pain for his audacity to blatantly ask a personal question—_

_“I know it’s not easy,” Hakyeon said, absently touching the back of his neck. “It’s not like you_ asked _to be able to see color without knowing your soulmate.”_

_“What do you know?’ He snapped, rage boiling in his blood._

_Sensing danger, Wonshik tried to intercept. “Guys…”_

_“You don’t know what that’s like so don’t try preaching to me as if you care—,”_

_“You don’t have to like me.” Hakyeon rebutted, turning away and Hongbin’s heart felt like it was pinched.  “But at least let us walk you back home for your safety.”_

_Without another word, Hakyeon started walking and Hongbin was left dumbfounded. He heard Wonshik released a shaky but undeniably relieved breath next to him._

_“He's right, y’know.” The class president said._

_Hongbin glared at him and Wonshik immediately raised his hands. “He takes his position as Head Boy a bit too seriously...but he doesn't have any bad intentions.”_

_“What's in it for him?” he gritted his teeth. “What's in it for you?”_

_Wonshik levelled his gaze with Hongbin and there was such a conflicting array of emotions that even made Hongbin feel uncertain. There was a fleeting look hurt but also resolute determination and a firm deposition. Wonshik stood up a little straighter and said. “Not everyone wants to hurt you, Hongbin. Assuming about people without giving them a chance isn't... nice.”_

_“Tch.” Hongbin scoffed. “You try living with this curse of mine then.”_

_“I know people haven't been nice to you but we really do want to help you.”_

_“No one offers their help for free.” Hongbin’s eyes narrowed a little more._

_At this point, Wonshik looked slightly mad at Hongbin’s unwavering skepticism. “Well, you're gonna have to get used to the idea not everyone is selfish, you idiot.”_

_Hongbin felt like he'd been slapped across the face.Wonshik didn't stick around to see it because he already turned away as if he didn't want to hear Hongbin’s remark._

‘Idiots…’ _he thought to himself, sullenly._

_._

_._

_._

“Keep the change.”

Hongbin barely finished tapping the hood of the taxi before it quickly sped away from the curb. He shook his head, briefly thinking that the taxi driver had a death wish before he looked up at the building in front of him, realizing that perhaps _he_ had a death wish too. The club’s concrete facade accentuated with curvy black metal strips aligning the dark windows with a large white neon figure of a robot’s head on the top. Below it, the cursive LED lines reading ‘Daydream’ were rapidly changing color.

He walked up the steps, taking out the Raybans. He debated whether to put them on as he approached the tall yet bulky bouncer who looked at him.

“Hold.” He held up a hand, looking at Hongbin’s attire of skinny jeans, tight navy sweater and his black leather jacket. He made a show of running his fingers through his hair, flipping the Raybans to dangle on his collar and prayed he didn't have to pay for admittance.

“You've got a table?” he asked with a seemingly permanent scowl.

“Nope but I—,”

“Hongbin!”

They both looked at the door of the entrance where Hakyeon had emerged, eyes twinkling too brightly and a reddened face with a large grin on his face. “He's with me, we got a table!”

Before he could blink, Hakyeon wrapped an arm around his neck and jostled him inside the club. Instantly, the thundering bass washed over his senses and Hongbin fought the urge to cover his sensitive ears. He squinted, trying to see in the dimly lit club where everytime the synth bass thumped, the lights flickered and he quickly began to feel the vibrations reverberating through his chest down to his toes.

“Over here!” Hakyeon giggled, gesturing to the corner of the club, maneuvering between the sweaty bodies on the dance floor.

Hongbin clung to the back of Hakyeon’s shirt, hoping he wouldn't get dragged away against the current of clubgoers. The sensory overload was murder onto his vision; spotlights of many colors flickered and shined in multiple directions. Usually, that was the main reason why Hongbin hated clubs with a passion.

The mindless mirage of colors spilling into every corner were common in clubs even though club-goers never needed them. The smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol was thick in the air, almost palpable that made Hongbin feel nauseous with the first strings of a headache spewing.

“He-he… Bin-ah!” Hakyeon shouted over the dubstep music. “You look good! Keep dressing like that and you're going to get hit on!”

Hongbin strained against the older’s rough grip. “Hyung, slow down! Where the hell is W—,”

_“Hongbin!”_

Suddenly, something heavy barreled hard into him and it nearly knocked the wind out of him. He stumbled back, shaking under the hug Wonshik had attacked him with. Cursing loudly, he tried to regain his balance as Wonshik started nuzzling his neck, reeking of wretched alcohol and cigarette smoke.

Hongbin groaned. “Why are you so heavy?”

Wonshik sniffed, cheeks flushed. “Why won't you let me love you?”

He patted his friend's back gingerly, which prompted Wonshik to detangle off him. “Love you too, man. Now get the fuck off me.”

“Everyone!” Hakyeon announced, latching an incessant arm around his shoulders again. “This is Hongbin! Hongbin, meet everyone!”

“Hello!”

“Hi, Hongbin!”

They all cheered at him as if he was a celebrity that just walked into the club. There were the three girls—he assumed were Hana, Nayoung and Sejeong, all smiling—and Wonshik suddenly patted an extremely tall, good-looking stranger next to him, who was looking down at his legs, trying not to knock his limbs against their table.

“This is Hyogie!” he cheered, swaying a little, making one of the girls chuckle.

“It’s Sanghyuk.” The stranger corrected, wryly before skirting around the table and looking up.

Hongbin merely offered a polite smile. When Sanghyuk laid his eyes on Hongbin, he looked shocked . . . like he had just seen a ghost and it made Hongbin shift his weight, awkwardly. Did he look that terribly tired? Or sleep-deprived? Hakyeon patted him on his butt, making him flinch and looking away from Sanghyuk.

“Whelp, let's go to the club at the—,”

Hongbin glared, shrugging off the clingy older from his shoulders. “Nope, I am driving y'all home.”

“But I don't wanna!” Wonshik whined.

The taller girl with long pretty hair got up, languidly wrapping an arm around Hakyeon’s waist, which made Hongbin’s eyebrows shoot up. Wow, this girl was _forward_ . He almost wanted to applaud her but then Hakyeon’s face morphed into something that he classified as _sappy_ and he resisted the urge to gag loudly. This was another thing why he didn't like group settings: the chances of being the odd wheel were, without a shred of doubt, inevitable.

“We'll need to hang out again soon.” she smiled, cheeks red.

Hakyeon looked positively ready to bounce off the walls. “Okay, Hana.”

“Ugh, you two get a room!” Wonshik nearly stumbled and the shortest girl steadied him by the arms onto his feet. “Thanks, Sejeong.”

She chuckled. “No problem, bro.”

Wonshik made a show of pouting at Hongbin. “Can't we please go to another—,”

He ignored his roommate and lifted a hand at Sanghyuk. “Keys.”

Wonshik huffed indignantly at his flippant response, which made Sejeong laugh heartily. Sanghyuk was still blatantly staring at him but he didn't look transfixed or anything of the sort. He looked at Hongbin as if he wasn't quite sure what to make of him, which Hongbin decided he was going to blatantly ignore it. He passed Wonshik’s keys—his car and dorm keys attached together with a carabiner and a large bulldog keychain—to Hongbin’s outstretched palm.

“Let's go!” Hakyeon cheered as if they're going on an adventure.

He began to actually _bounce_ and soon enough, he and Hana were practically skipping out of the room. Nayoung laughed at the sight, playfully hitting Wonshik's back as they followed suit. Sejeong and Sanghyuk were the last ones behind Hongbin as he followed the rest out of the club.

Hakyeon and Hana were being awfully close, whispering to each other, but just shy of touching directly, skin-to-skin. Hongbin mused over this behavioral display; it was funny that people exercised such caution to not touch other people's skin because of the magic of color.

They ran up to Wonshik's old car while Hongbin casually lagged behind. He clicked the car open and there was a hassle of trying to fit everyone—(‘Sanghyuk, why are you so long?’ Wonshik whined)—into the car.

Hongbin revved up the engine and prayed that the car would withhold everyone's combined weight. Sejeong and Nayoung sat squished in the front passenger seat while Wonshik was roughly sandwiched between a disgruntled Sanghyuk and Hakyeon with Hana who seemed very smitten with each other. He rolled down all the windows to make none of the ungodly smells stayed trapped in the growing claustrophobic car.

“Oh, Wonshik.” He called out, checking the rearview mirror.

Cringing against Sanghyuk’s shoulder, Wonshik wriggled for some—although limited—space. “What?”

“Buckle up.”

He gave a hard slam to the ignition and hollered as he drove them onto the driveway, fresh air whipping in his hair and masked the sound of Wonshik’s retching.

.

.

.

_“You can't go home.”_

_“Huh?” Hongbin blinked, surprised to see Wonshik._

_He was just walking out of the science lab, their final class for the day when Wonshik caught him by the arm in the corridor. They had not really spoken to each other ever since what transpired between them and Hakyeon with the rest of Kibum’s group. Well, it was mostly because Hongbin had been avoiding his class president but that was beside the point._

_“Uh…” Hongbin raised a brow. “Why not?”_

_Wonshik shook his head. “You're not going home. Well, not yet.”_

_“Why?”_

_“I need you to help me clean the books in the homeroom.” He blurted it out so fast that Hongbin almost missed what he said._

_“...but they're already cleaned.” Hongbin countered._

_He should know, he helped arrange them with some of the girls in his homeroom class—it was also written in their classroom duty roster. He was beginning to become skeptical; surely their class president hadn't forgotten that._

_Wonshik looked unsettled. “I need your help in the teacher's room.”_

_“I need to go home.” He remained stubborn. For reasons unbeknownst to Hongbin, Wonshik was looking increasingly like an animal cornered and it made Hongbin feel . . . self-conscious. Were his words too blunt? Was it his tone? Realizing that he appeared more of a jerk than he had intended do, Hongbin wanted to try and at least be on good terms with Wonshik._

_“Look, I’m sorr—,”_

_“They brought flour and rotten eggs!” Wonshik almost shouted._

_There was a long pause between them as the information slowly sunk into Hongbin’s head._

_“What?”_

_Wonshik’s face was terribly flushed now, colored up the roots of his dark short close-cropped hair. “Kibum’s gang are outside the school gates waiting for you. They skipped school earlier and stole some expired food from the nearby market. I think they really want to do something… bad.”_

_His last word dropped off almost pathetically that it made_ Hongbin _feel sorry for the class president. It obviously looked like he wasn’t someone distrustful and had a hard time keeping secrets.  Nodding slowly, Hongbin raised a hand to nervously back at the back his head._

_“Ah.”_

_He stood there, staring at the spot over Wonshik's shoulder, unsure what to do with this piece of information. He tried to think around the problem; there was a back gate he could try but it was locked today and he wasn't a good enough climber to try and use it. He thought of the fence but it had barbed wire at the top and he'd very much like to go home unscathed._

_“Wait.” A thought hit him. “How did you know they skipped school earlier?”_

_“Wonshik!”_

_They both whipped at their heads at the general direction of where the new voice came from. Somehow, not to his surprise, Hongbin saw Hakyeon approach them with a cordial smile, his uniform sleeves pushed up to his elbows and his Prefect vest jacket swaying from where it hung in the fold of his sling bag._

_“I see you've told Hongbin. Hello!” he waved at Hongbin. “Wongeun tells me they’re still waiting at the front gate. They must’ve really pissed since I reported their asses.”_

_From the corner of his eye, he saw Wonshik hanging his head as if he had been caught red-handed. Hongbin sighed heavily through the nose and closed his eyes tightly, trying to fight the conflicting emotions stirring in the pit of his stomach. As much as he appreciated the gesture, he didn't like feeling like a damsel in distress. However, he still couldn’t shake off the wave of gratitude hitting him. It was an unusual feeling he rarely felt outside of home._

_“I told you he'd be pissed.”_

_He looked up to see Wonshik had shifted to Hakyeon’s side, looking timid and nervous, as if he was waiting for a scolding or an outburst. Instantly, a sense of guilt swelled and gnawed inside Hongbin as he recalled what his class president said last week. Schooling away the mild irritation from his face, he figured he should be nicer to them...especially over their peculiar reason, whatever it may be, to want to help him._

_“Uh...” he tried. “...thanks.”_

_He wasn't used to saying it aloud so he had expected the shell-shocked look on Wonshik’s face but Hakyeon beamed at him. “No problem. Now, we gotta figure out a way to get you out safely.”_

_“Doesn't seem like I have a choice though.” Hongbin shrugged, ready to resign to his fate. “Back gate is locked.”_

_“Why not try the school gate fencing?” Wonshik suggested._

_Hakyeon shook his head before Hongbin could answer. “The fencing is too tall anyway. Besides, the drain runs along the whole stretch of the fence. You could very well fall into it if you aren't careful.”_

_Hongbin bit his lip, squaring his shoulders. ‘Well, that's that.’ He pictured himself, miserably walking home covering in smelly egg whites and flour flinging onto his hair like a loser. At least he knew that was his awaiting fate._

_“But you've got me.” Hakyeon’s voice interrupted his reverie._

_They both looked at the elder Head Boy, who was grinning slyly as if he knew something that they didn't. “Hyung…?” Wonshik asked._

_“Being Head Boy, I know all the spots that students use to skip school...even the secret ones.” He winked. “There's this low fence in the school's back garden that the students used to go through to skip PE class. Mr. Park, the school gardener always locks the garden during school hours. If we're lucky, Kibum and his gang probably don't know about it and we can climb it.”_

_“Why wouldn't they know of it if some students have used it before?” Hongbin asked, skeptically._

_Hakyeon chuckled. “You clearly haven't seen Mr. Park chase troublemakers out of the back garden while carrying a big gardening scythe.”_

_“I have.” Wonshik’s expression morphed into something akin to horror. “The man is almost 7 feet and weights like… a_ lot _. He looked downright scary.”_

_“Well, he's actually a lot nicer than he looks.” Hakyeon huffed, folding his sleeves properly out of the crumpled folds. “Students usually avoid the back garden because of Mr. Park and he's told me no one has tried to sneak through there for almost three years. It's a safe bet that the spot has already been declared off-limits to play hooky. We get you through there, it’ll be easy-peasy lemon-squeezy.”_

_Without meaning to, Hongbin’s face split into a grin as he chuckled. “Well, it’s either that or I turn into a rotten omelette.”_

_Both of the other two stared at him, Wonshik was transfixed while Hakyeon looked genuinely confounded. Like a sudden wave of icy water had washed over him, Hongbin stopped smiling. He instinctively crossed his arms in a semi-defensive stance._

_“I never knew you had dimples.” Wonshik sounded awed and he slapped a hand over his mouth as if he hadn’t meant to say it aloud._

_Heat shot up to Hongbin’s cheeks before he could stop it. “...well, I do.”_

_“You look cuter with dimples.” Hakyeon noted like he was impressed. To Hongbin’s surprise and horror, Wonshik nodded eagerly in agreement. “Really cute.”_

_Feeling himself grow pinker, Hongbin tugged the strap of his backpack tighter. “...Let’s get going?”_

_“Ah, yeah.” Hakyeon grinned. “Let’s!”_

_Hongbin let himself follow behind Hakyeon’s and Wonshik’s lead. The back garden wasn’t very difficult to find, now that most of the school compound was becoming emptier as more and more students were leaving. The back garden was a simple singular greenhouse flanked by rows of plants, standing in the middle of a square of land, lined with wired barbed fencing. The school’s concrete tall fence lined up the rear end of the back garden and Hongbin spotted, the significantly shorter fence wall._

_“It’s because of the tree.” Hakyeon explained, pointing at the large pine tree behind the wall. The trunk was thick but the branches hung low. “They didn’t want to cut it down so they made the fence lower.”_

_Without another word, Hakyeon easily strolled up to the small iron gate of the back garden. Hongbin and Wonshik followed after him, nervously looking around. He gently pushed the gate open and walked right in, eyes searching around the garden._

_“That’s odd.” He said. “Mr. Park’s not here.”_

_“Let’s just go before—,”_

_“There they are!”_

_The three of them whipped around, seeing two boys gesturing wildly at them.  Hongbin instantly recognized both of them as Kibum’s cronies. “Call Kibum and the others now!” The shorter one shouted at the other, who began sprinting to the general direction of the front gate. He eyed the three of them with spite._

_“Oh, shit.” Hakyeon cursed._

_“Where’s Mr. Park?” Hongbin blurted, clenching his fist. “Where’s his murderous scythe?”_

_“I dunno but I bet they’ve distracted him. C’mon!” Hakyeon yelled, breaking into a run. He felt a hand gripping firmly onto his forearm and Hongbin sprinted, pulled by Wonshik. They zipped past the rows of lined pots, Hakyeon jumping over a wooden table littered with gardening tools and the short fence grew close and Hongbin himself nearly tripped over a shovel lying on the dirt. Wonshik blindly gripped at whatever he ran past—a rolled garden hose, potato sacks, blackened rotten tomatoes, a moldy cabbage—and tossed it behind him._

_To his pleasure, he heard a loud yelp followed with a wet sickening splat and risked a glance. The crony tripped and had landed face-first into the wet dirt with a pile of tomato paste._

_He felt Wonshik’s grip on him loosen as they all reached the fence and Hakyeon laid a hand on it, looking up in panic. Even though it was a shorter fence, it was still a good eight feet height with no foot ledge to use to hoist one’s self up._

_“Boost me up!” Hakyeon shouted._

_He pulled the both of them on either side of him and in a mess of dirty shoes lined with earth, they both had a grip of either of his feet and hoisted him up. He gripped onto the ledge, pulling himself up. Hongbin risked another look behind, seeing that the guy was slowly getting up from the ground._

_“Hongbin!” Wonshik called._

_He looked up, seeing Hakyeon sitting up on the top of the fence with a hand outstretched down to him. Wonshik widened his stance, moving hurriedly to Hongbin’s side._

_“Up! UP!” Wonshik yelled, tugging Hongbin impatiently._

_Biting his lip uncertainly, he stretched up and gripped onto Hakyeon’s forearm, planted the flat of his foot against Wonshik’s outstretched thigh before he climbed up. Grunting with effort, Hakyeon hoisted Hongbin and he gripped tightly, onto the edge of the fence, pulling himself up. The crony let out a shout and in the distance, he heard more voices hollering. Uh-oh…_

_“Wonshik!”_

_He and Hakyeon both stretched out their hands at him. Rearing a little, Wonshik sprinted and jumped, catching both of their forearms. About to topple being pulled by the weight, Hongbin braced his feet on either side of the wall he was straddling and he with Hakyeon pulled Wonshik up. With a grunt, Wonshik gripped onto the ledge and sat up._

_Suddenly, Hakyeon toppled over._

_“Hyung!” Hongbin shouted._

_With horror thundering in his ears, he watched Hakyeon yell, landing on the soft dirt with a muffled thump, curled up in a foetal position. He rolled over onto his back, looking absolutely winded._

_“You shits!” the crony shouted, running up to them._

_‘Oh, shit.’ Hongbin thought and without thinking, he jumped off the fence. He landed, bending his knees as much as he can before he rolled over, narrowly missing some rocks. As he sat up groggily, Hakyeon was already on his feet, looking at the panic-stricken Wonshik who seemed frozen into place._

_“Wonshik!” Hakyeon called out. “Now is_ not _the time to be fucking afraid of heights!”_

_He didn’t make any move that he’d heard Hakyeon, simply sitting on the fence as if he was permanently glued to it. The screams from the other side of the fence were growing louder and Hongbin’s blood turned colder. Grunting with frustration, Hakyeon took a leap and latched onto one of Wonshik’s feet hanging over the fence. Wonshik shrieked, losing his balance. Suddenly, he slipped, hanging on the edge of the fence, legs hanging._

_Hakyeon hugged him by the calves, tugging him down. “GET DOWN!”_

_“I CAN’T!” Wonshik yelled._

_“For fuck’s sake, get_ down, _Kim Wonshik or I will pull your pants and leave you butt-naked!” Hakyeon’s face turned red from effort and Wonshik struggled, whimpering. Hongbin got up, rushing to Hakyeon’s side and getting a hold of Wonshik’s legs as well._

_“On three, LET GO!” Hakyeon shouted._

_“Wait!”_

_“THREE!”_

_With a mighty tug on his legs, Wonshik’s fingers slipped from the fence and he barrelled down onto them. Hongbin reared from the sheer weight of Wonshik toppling onto him and fell back, landing on his sore butt. Huffing heavily, Hakyeon sat up from where he’d fallen as well and inspected Wonshik’s head, looking for whether he’d hit it during the landing._

_“Wonshik!” Hakyeon urgently patted his cheek. “Wonshik, get up!”_

_Hongbin blinked through his daze, trying to feel his legs._

_“Good lord,” the elder groaned, trying to stir the dazed Wonshik up in a hush voice. “Get up, you thick—!”_

_“Shit, they got away!”_

_He heard the rustling of leaves and the sounds of running footfalls. Hongbin’s blood went cold; it was Kibum’s voice, loud and clear above the chatter of his minions, from the other side of the fence._

_“Let’s get them!” Kibum hollered. “Quick, get me up there, I am—!”_

_“_ What are you doing?!”

_If Hongbin’s blood had been cold when he heard Kibum’s voice, this one made his insides want to shrivel up dry. Even Hakyeon looked up in surprise, staring at whoever it was on the other side of the fence . . . until a small smile grew on his face._

_“Mr. Park!” One of the guys shouted._

_“Now, which one of you should I cut into pieces first for trespassing the back garden?”_

_Suddenly, there was a chaos of scurrying, cursing and yelling. As Hongin listened to the undeniable sounds of them retreating away, he slowly turned at Hakyeon, who equally caught his eye. There was a long pause of them looking at each other, as they tried to calm their thundering hearts and catch their breath, there was a tickle in the pit of Hongbin’s stomach. He closed his eyes and bit down on his lip, succumbing to this ridiculous urge to laugh . . . and_ giggle _._

_Slowly, laughter bubbled from in side and he fell onto his back, letting mirth slipping from his lips and  his shoulders shake. He vaguely wondered when was the last time he ever laughed this hard. Hakyeon chuckled, toppling onto the floor and the sound of their surprised amusement rang loud until eventually, Wonshik sat up._

_He looked between the two laughing idiots with so much confusion in his dazed state._

_“Am I dead?”_

_They doubled over, laughing their little hearts out._

.

.

.

“You prick.” Hongbin snapped.

Wonshik barely flinched, snoring away as he snuggled deeper into the warm blankets on Hongbin’s bed. Hongbin tried to shake him away, grumbling that his pungent smell will cling to his sheets and he had just done laundry yesterday! Wonshik flopped listlessly, refusing to move after he had blindly walked into their shared dorm before landing on the first bed he reached.

Hongbin groaned, exasperatedly and massaged his temples while Hakyeon quietly sipped on a grape juice-box from the edge of Wonshik’s bed, one that Hongbin swiped from Wonshik’s stash in their fridge.

Hongbin had managed to send all of the girls safely back to their dormitory (with great difficulty detaching the clingy Hakyeon from a half-sleepy Hana) and then, Sanghyuk to his own dorm, which was nearer than he expected. (‘I met Wonshik through soccer games at the field,’ he explained before heading up to the dorm where most of the music majors stayed at)

He checked his watch again, the time reading ‘4.42 a.m.’

Hakyeon lolled sleepily, slurping the last of the juice audibly. Hongbin began rummaging through his closet for an extra change of clothes to give to Hakyeon.

“Here.” Hongbin passed them to Hakyeon.

“You're the best, Bin-ah.” The elder patted his cheek affectionately.

He ignored it. “That was pretty responsible of you, hyung.” he said, dryly.

He knew now wasn't the time to give the elder a scolding but he was kinda _pissed_ of how tonight turned out. Thankfully, it was a Friday night—well, technically it was already Saturday morning—but he had hoped Hakyeon’s first big group date with Wonshik wouldn't be too wild.

Hakyeon pouted, whining. “You're so mean.”

“No, I'm being rational.” he started pulling the elder to his feet. “Someone ought to be. You're too easily swayed by emotions and Wonshik can be as thick as a brick sometimes.”

“We were just having fun...” Hakyeon pouted.

Hongbin felt the first strains of pain stinging between his eyes. “Hyung, it's really late and I really don't wanna get mad at you right now. Go change.”

Hakyeon looked wounded as he walked out of the bedroom to the bathroom next to the small pantry area. Hongbin briefly closed the door, changing back into his comfortable sleep clothes. He walked up to Wonshik, arranging him on his side so he wouldn't choke on any vomit and peeled off his leather jacket before dumping it into the laundry hamper.

Hakyeon came back, wearing one of Wonshik’s t-shirt and Hongbin’s sweatpants.

“Drink some water before you sleep.” Hongbin passed a bottle to Hakyeon.

“I'm sorry…” Hakyeon pouted, making grabby hands at Hongbin as if asking for a hug.

“We'll talk tomorrow.” Hongbin picked up one of the pillows from his bed, ignoring the elder's demand. “Hyung, you can take Wonshik’s bed for tonight.”

“Where are you sleeping?” He took a gulp as he was told.

“Outside,” he took out the spare comforter from underneath his bed, one he typically reserved for guests—usually Wonshik’s friends—that wanted to hang out all night. “I’ll be on the sofa.”

“Okay.” Hakyeon put down the bottle but then he lifted his arms up at Hongbin.

Stifling the urge to groan loudly, Hongbin briefly placed the pillow and comforter onto his chair before reluctantly lifting his hands back at the elder. Almost giggling, Hakyeon rushed forward and enveloped Hongbin into a tight hug. Hongbin tried not to cringe at the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke in Hakyeon’s hair. At least the clothes he was wearing smelled freshly laundered.

“Someone’s gonna be really lucky to have you, Bin-ah.” Hakyeon said, his voice muffled into the curve of Hongbin’s shoulder.

He patted the elder’s back awkwardly with one hand. “You’re still drunk, hyung. Just sleep.”

Much to his surprise, Hakyeon released him rather easily and climbed into Wonshik’s messy bed. He pushed aside the blanket, a dark red colored fabric with white paw prints, and buried his head into the soft pillow, closing his eyes. Picking up his pillow and comforter, Hongbin heaved a sigh and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm also on twitter (same @username) and temporarily taking requests for Hongbin month!


	4. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The winds are changing direction.

.

.

.

 **. three .** ****

_‘In the morning time when I see your eyes,_

_Be my ocean faith, no one can replace you,_

_Light is creeping in, both our legs are hid,_

_Want that day to come, with a morning sun,’_

 

— Golden Youth, ‘Where’s Your Heart Gone?'

.

 

_‘It's a strange hobby,’ Hakyeon once said, standing beside Hongbin._

_Nineteen-year-old Hongbin was sitting down in a study chair, hunched over a drafting table where he was cutting up the white sides of the photographs he’d printed himself with a metal precision knife. Photography was, in their world, a peculiar hobby since not a lot of people could see color—except the ones who’ve found their soulmates—and usually the who divulged in the hobby were middle-aged to elderly people._

_Hongbin dragged down the blade smoothly against the metal ruler pinning down the picture. “If you're allowed to force me to color-match for you, I'm allowed to make photography my hobby…”_

_Hakyeon picked up a piece of balsa wood from Hongbin’s table, absently turning it in his fingers. “But you know… color-match has a target market. Photography...doesn't.”_

_“Hush, hyung.” Hongbin piped but Hakyeon continued as if uninterrupted._

_“I'm just saying you'd make lots of money.” The older said matter-of-factly. “Imagine all the lonely singles who'd hire you to color-match for them before every date or party. Any occassion that involves meeting new people. Besides, you're younger than most color-matchers anyway...and cuter.”_

_Hongbin snorted. “Right.”_

_“I’m serious! I think people would really flock to you!”_

_Color-matching was a pretty self-explanatory job; a person (typically someone has matched and could see colors) would be hired to color-match people’s outfit for any event. For the many years people couldn’t find out why people had to meet their soulmates in order to see colors, they’ve spent awfully almost the same amount of time trying to make money from it._

_“I’m not interested in that sort of business.” Hongbin hissed._

_Hakyeon chuckled. “You’re so noble, not wanting to twist the hearts of every single person out there with your talents.”_

_“No, I am not.” He said, grabbing the wooden picture frame to test if the picture fitted. “Color-matching isn’t a talent, hyung. It’s just an odd and kind of shady business. Imagine if you hire a color-matcher and you have no idea if they’re actually doing it right! Imagine if they paired you in an ugly orange sweater with pink shorts!”_

_Hongbin violently shuddered, which Hakyeon quirked an eyebrow at. For a fleeting moment, Hongbin wanted to smack the older but he remembered, obviously, Hakyeon had no concept of how color theory worked . . . or what the colors he mentioned look like._

_“Besides, color-matching for one annoying hyung is enough for me.” He continued, conversationally._

_Hakyeon punched his arm lightly and he chuckled. He finished cutting up the side and propped a frame up, slipping in the picture inside where it slid flawlessly. He leaned back into his study chair and looked up at Hakyeon who was staring closely at one of the uncut pictures he had._

_He noticed the squint in Hakyeon’s eyes and Hongbin knew that he had a hard time distinguishing the pale hues of the turquoise and sand colors between the sea and beach, a photo Hongbin took on an impromptu solo trip on his own last summer._

_“Hyung…”_

_“Hm?” Hakyeon hummed in response, putting down the photo onto the table._

_“Why do you want to see color so much?”_

_“Because I want to, isn’t that obvious?” Hakyeon answered with a quirked brow. “I’m pretty sure I’ve answered that question plenty of times, Bin—,”_

_“No, I mean..._ why _do you want to_?”

_It was as if they both could hear the needle drop. Hongbin’s tone had subtly became more emphasized, in a way that they both knew that he didn’t mean the question in a shallow sense. They’ve known each other for so long, grown accustomed to each other’s mannerisms and there was no way Hakyeon would miss it.  He sighed softly, knowing that Hongbin wanted a more elaborate answer than that._

_“Remember my mom?” Hakyeon asked._

_Hongbin sat up a little straighter. “Yeah.”_

_“She used to describe the colors to me when I was little.” Picking a loose thread on his sweater, Hakyeon smiled. “I could never picture it anyway but she always made colors sound so fascinating… like ‘red makes your heart swell and your blood flow faster’, ‘grey makes you feel cool and suspended in the moment’, ‘yellow makes you smile because it’s bright’... Those were the things she used to say to me anyway.”_

_Unconsciously, Hakyeon fidgeted with his bracelet; it had belonged to his sister and the move made his smile waver._

_Hongbin felt himself frown sadly at this subtle change._

_“Besides, I don’t think my family would’ve liked me to dwell on the negativity because they figured that’s probably the point of it. The magic of color. You’re meant to see the world as beautiful as it is with the right person. That way, people would appreciate the world better and life wouldn’t feel so miserable if you’ve got to share it with someone.”_

_There was a brief yet heavy silence that settled between them._

_“That’s super corny.” Hongbin said, attempting to lighten the mood._

_Hakyeon chuckled, the sadness ebbed away from his face._

_“It is.” Hakyeon grinned. “But the magic of color is open to interpretation, isn’t it? Depends on how you view it.”_

_“So, that’s how you view it?”_

_“I view it as a chance to spend many happy and colorful days with the right person for me.” He shrugged, crossing his arms. “Not a bad thing to look forward to in the grand scheme of things.”_

_“Ugh, you sap.” Hongbin cringed, goodnaturedly._

_Hakyeon laughed. “Y’know, your soulmate is out there too, Bin-ah.”_

_“Hmm.”_

_“You can see_ color, _so it must mean you’ve met your soulmate_ before _. They’re bound to be nearby if you just...looked?’” Hakyeon said, hopefully, and it made Hongbin uneasy._

_“I’ll start looking when you stop looking.” Hongbin deadpanned._

_Detecting that he wasn’t going to sway the younger’s decision, Hakyeon chuckled and dropped the topic._

.

.

.

Hongbin woke up to sound of retching the next morning.

He sat up and instantly decided it was a bad move. His head started to spin immediately when he got up too fast and he took a moment to blink through the stars dancing before his eyes. He looked at the general direction of the bathroom door, where it was ajar and he saw the shape of someone’s back curled on the toilet bowl, releasing all the contents of their stomach. He had a vague thought, _‘whozzat?’_

He pushed aside the blankets, his pillow had fallen onto the floor in the middle of the night while he was sleeping, and picked up his phone.

Blinking blearily at the screen, the time read: 11.24 a.m.

“Ugh…” He heard a groan, followed by the sound of the toilet flushing.

Putting down his phone, he tried to get a better grip of his consciousness. He felt sluggish and fuzzy in the head, which was concerning since he didn't even _drink last night._ vaguely wondering how the hell the other two were feeling, he got up slowly, putting a hand to his head as if it would help cease the spinning in his mind (‘stupid low blood pressure,’ he absently cursed at himself) and headed to the bedroom.

He swung the door open, finding Wonshik still snoring loudly, wrapped in a weird concoction of a blanket burrito that did not look at all comfortable.

_Knock! Knock!_

Mumbling incoherently, he made a drowsy beeline towards the front door. A blurry guess came to him, thinking it was either Gongchan or Hakyeon’s roommate, Wongeun, who must be here to collect his drunken ass.

He shook his head, clearing the lingering haze in his mind before he clasped the doorknob and opened the door.

“Yo—,” the words died on the tip of his tongue.

Han Sanghyuk stood in front of the doorknob, looking too normal for someone who had a _lot_ to drink last night. He looked clean, wearing a dull checkered shirt over a white shirt and dark jeans with pristine shoes, like a prettily coordinated black and white canvas.

“Oh, Sanghyuk.”

“Ah, Hongbin-hyung.” He smiled. His eyes roamed all over his face as if he was looking for something in the expression.

Hongbin shifted slightly under the weight of Sanghyuk’s gaze, wondering if he looked terribly trashed . . . he probably did. He had half a mind to process that he had morning breath and his possibly catastrophic bedhead.

“Do you need something?” he fought the blush threatening to color his cheeks.

“Oh, yeah.” Sanghyuk snapped out of a brief reverie. “It turns out I accidentally took Wonshik’s phone last night when you asked me to get his stuff off him...so I just came to return it. Here.”

He fished out the aforementioned phone from his pocket and handed it out to Hongbin. He took it slowly and looked back at Hyuk, who had furrowed his brows as he stared at the phone in his hand. Eventually, Sanghyuk smiled at him but with furrowed brows as if he didn’t know what to make of Hongbin. It made him uncomfortable.

“Sanghyuk?”

They both whipped their heads at the sound of the voice: Hakyeon. His lips were slightly pale and looked slightly squeamish, leaning heavily against the bathroom door frame but still alive . . . barely. He was staring between them, eyes flicking back and forth, which made Hongbin even more nervous. Why was he being looked at as if he was a magnet for trouble?

“Hyung,” Sanghyuk waved, grinning. “You look ter—,”

“Don’t.” Hakyeon raised a threatening finger.

Sanghyuk laughed, throwing his back a little and the previous tension between him and Hongbin dissipated. However, before Hakyeon could say anything more, his eyes bulged and he scrambled back to the bathroom again. They heard more of his loud retching and Hongbin sighed heavily.

“Make yourself comfortable, Sanghyuk.” He said, walking towards the bathroom.

He placed Wonshik’s phone on top of the pantry counter, peering inside and seeing Hakyeon’s shoulders shake as he continued to empty the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl.

“Hongbin…” Hakyeon raised a shaky hand.

“Aspirin. Got it.”

Hongbin walked back into the pantry, filling up a glass with water and pulling out some aspirin from the overhead cabinet. He glimpsed at Sanghyuk, from the corner of his eye, who had toed off his shoes and was awkwardly pacing in their living room.

He vaguely wondered if there was anything the younger had to do at their small dorm.

“Where did you and Wonshik meet?” He attempted at light conversation while waiting Hakyeon to appear. “I don’t think he’s ever mentioned.”

“Oh, we met at soccer club.” Sanghyuk sunk down to the edge of the sofa. He gently pushed aside Hongbin’s blanket and added, “I’ve only just joined recently, I’m in my second semester.”

“What are you studying?” He asked even though he knew the answer.

“Music.” Sanghyuk smiled.

“Cool.” He commented. “I’m an architecture major.”

“Ah, cool.”

The awkwardness quickly settled in.

They heard the toilet flush again and Hakyeon reemerged, looking greener than before. Hongbin wordlessly passed him the glass and the medicine, which the elder took it gratefully and downed it down quickly.

“I’ll order us some food.” Hongbin declared.

Hakyeon carefully set the glass down on the pantry counter. “You are a sweetheart, Bin-ah.”

“Sanghyuk.” He called out the younger, who had been idly shuffling his feet against the carpet. “Would you like to have breakfast with us?”

“Uh, actually... Come to think of it, I actually have to go.” Sanghyuk said, gesturing absently at the door. “I just remembered I had...stuff to do.”

With that lame excuse, he hurriedly slipped his feet back into his shoes and walked back out, smiling slightly and waving goodbye at both of them before closing the door behind him. They merely watched him slowly, Hongbin left in stunned uncertainty and Hakyeon with dazed contemplation.

“He _likes_ you.” Hakyeon concluded.

“Ew.” Hongbin cringed horrendously, which made the elder’s eyebrows shoot up. “Why would you say that?”

“First of all, how _dare_ you use ‘ew’ about Sanghyuk? He’s an adorable giant teddy bear,” It earned him a narrowed-eyed glare from Hongbin that could’ve melted steel, which he blatantly ignored. “Second, he is really hot. You saw how his legs looked like in skinny jeans last night! Imagine those bare thighs when he’s having soccer practice with Wonshik.”

Hongbin rolled his eyes. “Besides that, what’s your point?”

“He looked at you funny.”

“That’s why I said ‘ew’. Sanghyuk didn’t look at me like he ‘liked’ me,” he curled his fingers into air quotes for emphasis. “...he looked at me like… I had some sort of disease.”

Hakyeon let out a general ‘ah’ of understanding. “That’s a bit harsh, he did look at you as if you’re something curious.”

Hongbin huffed, thinking _‘that’s exactly what I was trying to say earlier,’_ but decided to forego it. He only just met Sanghyuk and judging from the few times Wonshik has ever mentioned him, he was simply a freshman.

Hongbin doubted he would ever see Sanghyuk again after this.

“C’mon,” he called out. “Let’s go wake up that snoring firetruck and get some food.”

They walked into the bedroom. Hakyeon quickly went over to Wonshik, sitting on the edge of the bed and started to massage slow circles against Wonshik’s temple, making the younger lad slowly stir awake.

“Wonshik-ah,” the elder cooed softly. “Wake up.”

Blinking blearily, Wonshik mumbled a string of barely comprehensible words. He rolled over towards Hakyeon’s gentle touch, who was still massaging at his temples. He closed his eyes, cuddling the closest thing he could reach for, which was Hakyeon’s thigh. It made the elder unbelievably ecstatic.

“Oh, my child.” Hakyeon crooned, which made Hongbin chuckle. “C’mon, you big sleepyhead. We’re ordering breakfast.”

“No.” Wonshik grumbled, nuzzling his face into Hakyeon’s thigh.

“No to breakfast?” Hongbin asked, dryly.

“...no.”  Hongbin rolled his eyes and fished out his phone, dialing a familiar number for food.

.

.

.

_“You sure about this?”_

_Hongbin looked at Wonshik with curiosity. “About what? Eating at a fast food place for dinner? Not the best idea, I'll admit—”_

_“No, it’s not that.” Wonshik absently scratched the back of his close-cropped head. “Aren’t you worried those bullies would be around?”_

_They were queuing up in a line at a fast food restaurant, one they decided to try out when their parents were not at home. It was an unfortunate circumstance that both of them were_ terrible _cooks._

_“I was hoping they’d be expelled after what happened last time.” Hongbin didn’t bother hiding the bitterness from his tone._

_Wonshik’s face softened with sympathy._

_It has been three weeks since the incident at the back garden happened. Hongbin hadn’t seen a glimpse of any of the bullies at school. It probably had to do with the fact that he’d been hanging out more with Wonshik and Hakyeon recently (hard to not be friends with people who literally jumped the Fence of Death with you). Hakyeon was well-known as Head Boy and Wonshik had a vague reputation as being Class President, also being very likeable._

_For the first time in a long time, Hongbin felt . . . normal._

_People were more interested in Hakyeon and Wonshik, instead of him, whenever they were at school. He was fine with that. Spending almost his life being seen as an outcast, it was nice that people stopped looking at him that way...especially now that he had friends._

_He wouldn’t admit it to himself because these new pleasant friendships had an underlying sense of expiration—a notion he refused to acknowledge. He liked that he had friends._

_He wished it would last longer._

_“Well, at least they won't bother you anymore.” Wonshik offered, kindly._

_Hongbin smiled ruefully and commented nothing more. He didn't want to burst Wonshik’s bubble. They ordered and paid for their food before finding a table to eat at. Wonshik brought back many sauce packets and they started digging into their greasy food._

_“Hakyeon’s family is having a party this weekend.” Wonshik said after some time, ketchup stuck to the side of his mouth. “It's nothing fancy, a simple dinner party. You should come.”_

_Hongbin took a quick sip. “I don’t think—,”_

_“You're invited.” Wonshik licked his finger. “He told me to invite you.”_

_“Why?” Hongbin blurted before he could stop himself._

_Wonshik momentarily paused, glancing at the blush rising in Hongbin’s cheeks. Hongbin knew the answer but he wished his brain-to-mouth filter wasn't a wreck sometimes._

_“We're friends, duh.” Wonshik answered, almost unperturbed. The pink flush at the corner of his ears was a giveaway that he probably felt as embarrassed as Hongbin was._

_“...thanks.” Hongbin smiled, his chest swelling with joy._

_They shared a chuckle but continued their dinner in comfortable silence. Hongbin truly liked hanging out with them. Wonshik was jittery but friendly while Hakyeon was composed yet passionate. They made an interesting duo to be around with._

_Wonshik’s phone rang suddenly._

_“Hyung…” he greeted, cradling the phone between his cheek and shoulder. “I'm out with Hongbin, we're eating.”_

_Hongbin ate a French fry, listening patiently._

_“Well, we’re almost done anyway. Hold on—do you want to go to the PC room?” He asked Hongbin, turning the phone away for a bit._

_“Sure.” Hongbin nodded; it’s not like he had anything to do. He had already finished his homework and no one was at home._

_“We’re coming.” Wonshik reaffirmed the message. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”_

_Hongbin raised a brow in a silent challenge, smirking. “Not if I beat your ass first.”_

_“Oi, color freak.”_

_They both stiffened immediately._

_“Uh oh,” Wonshik blanched._

_Hongbin bit down the insides of his cheeks, trying to quell the gnawing sense of annoyance growing inside him. Three weeks later, they still decided to harass him. He was getting sick of this. He didn’t think the bullies would be_ stupid _enough to actually pick a bone with them in a public setting._

_Guessed he was wrong._

_“Hongbin, we should—,”_

_“No.” He said flatly. “We are not running. I want to finish my dinner in peace. You should too, Wonshik.”_

_With that, he took another bite of his spicy chicken burger but Wonshik didn’t look relieved nor reassured. He grew more fidgety as Kibum stalked up to their table, smacking both of his hands down onto their table, making both of their trays bounce. Wonshik twitched but Hongbin steadfastly chewed on as if Kibum had mildly sneezed._

_“I’d like to repay the favor of what happened three weeks ago.”_

_“The new haircut suits you.” Hongbin commented dryly. “Now go away.”_

_Kibum and his whole band of cronies sputtered and even Wonshik looked shellshocked like Hongbin just had a deathwish. Wiping the sauce off the corner of his mouth with a napkin, Hongbin licked the sesame seeds clinging to his fingers. He still hadn’t looked Kibum in the face where he knew, two weeks ago, Mr. Park gave them ugly haircuts as punishment for trespassing the back garden._

_Kibum’s spit was flying when he pointed a finger accusingly at Hongbin’s face. “Look at this freak! He’s finally talking back just cause he has a friend now—,”_

_“No,” Hongbin cut him off smoothly. “I am talking back because I want to eat in peace.”_

_“Hongbin.” He heard Wonshik murmur faintly._

_He wasn’t sure if it was a desperate plea to have him stop talking or astounded awe at his audacity._

_“Besides,” Hongbin interrupted, half-turning towards their direction but still not looking at their faces. “If you guys start anything right now, you’ll get kicked out or possibly banned from this place. So don’t.”_

_He took another bite from his burger as if he was making his point concise and clear. He glimpsed Wonshik picking up his drink, hiding a small smile as he took a sip. Kibum still stood dumbfounded and had turned very red in the face. Hongbin relished in the face that only he knew how much Kibum looked like a walking radish right then._

_“This ain’t over.” Kibum curled his ugly finger at Hongbin, who tried not to cringe at the sight of it._

_Suddenly, to his_ and _Wonshik’s utter surprise, they left._

_Hongbin forced himself to keep chewing, not to give away how shocked he was but Wonshik had dropped all pretenses. His eyes went wide, trailing as the whole band of them walked out of the fast food restaurant. Large eyes flickering back and forth between Hongbin and the door they just walked out of, Wonshik seemed to be holding his breath._

_Hongbin counted: one._

_Two._

_Three._

_Four—_

_“Oh, my god oh my god oh, my_ god!” _Wonshik blurted in a panic. “They actually—,”_

_Even Hongbin couldn’t stifle his laughs. Then, Wonshik accidentally dropped his drink and everything passed almost in slow motion but too fast. The cover toppled but Wonshik’s tanned hand managed to grab before any more Coke spilled onto the table._

_“Damn it, Wonshik!” Hongbin cackled. “How clumsy can you get?”_

_“You can't blame me!” Wonshik’s grin was wide and his eyes were crinkled at the corners. “You told them off!”_

_“I had to! Our burgers would get cold if we let them tossle us in this place!” Hongbin helped Wonshik clean up the mess by dumping multiple layers of napkin, letting it absorb the dark fizzy liquid._

_Wonshik absently folded the napkin, letting the clean end absorb more of the Coke. “That was pretty gusty.”_

_“Nah, it's nothing.”_

_“No, seriously, it is…” Wonshik shook his head, smiling. “Who are you and what did you do to Hongbin from three weeks ago?”_

_Hongbin chuckled, trying to quell the racing heartbeat in his chest. He felt . . . proud. It was such a foreign feeling. ”He’s around. “ He answered. “He’s just done with the world.”_

_“Cheers to this new Hongbin,” Wonshik toasted with his opened cup._

_They shared a pleasantly quiet moment as if the gravity of the words were sinking deeper into their minds. Hongbin smiled absently, enjoying Wonshik’s company, and savoring the taste of this small piece of self-actualization._

_“It hasn't been easy...being touched by color.” He admitted, scooping up the damp napkins and gingerly tossed them onto the tray. Wonshik laced his fingers, adopting a stance that Hongbin realized he frequently used whenever he wanted to show he was listening intently to people. It probably explained why lots of people liked Wonshik to elect him as class president. Hongbin called it the Buddha Wonshik pose._

_“I never liked not knowing who my soulmate is.” He lamented. “I almost wished I hadn’t even seen them, whoever they were.”_

_He half-expected Wonshik’s expression to change to one of shock … to say something along the lines ‘you don’t mean that’ or ‘you can’t say that about your soulmate, they’re_ meant _for you’. That used to common response he’d received from distant relatives, whom made him greatly disliked family reunions. Soulmates were so desirable, it was almost a universal law . . . and Hongbin almost hated it._

_To his utter surprise, Wonshik remained silent  and it unnerved Hongbin to have his friend look so deep in thought._

_However,  it seemed that Wonshik was weighing Hongbin’s words carefully and it brought a surge of gratitude when the silence lingered. Then, Wonshik spoke._

_“Being touched by color yet not finding your soulmate….” He clicked his tongue, solemnly. “People make soulmates out to be the_ most important _thing in life when it’s not. There are other important things too; personal happiness, family, career growth, lifelong friends. You won’t die if you don’t ever meet your soulmate.”_

_Hongbin watched as Wonshik halted, trying to find his words again._

_“Color isn’t a necessity you need to have in life. Color is just magic; an added bonus. There’s billions of people in the world yet you only get one soulmate in a lifetime, it’s actually very miserable odds.”_

_“Yeah…” Hongbin wondered why Wonshik was so perceptive about it. Had he...experienced the unpleasant side of the soulmate ordeal too? “You sound as if you speak from experience.”_

_Wonshik smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No, but I know people who have.”_

_“Oh.” His curiosity burned with want to ask more questions but he suspected it was too soon to ask such an intimate question to a new friend, even it was someone as understanding as Wonshik._

_It was hard enough making friends, he didn’t want to chase them away with all the emotional baggage he carried. He appreciated Wonshik’s sentiment though. He knew there were lots of people who remained unmatched, marrying to whomever they loved, and still had happy families and happy lives without soulmates. Unfortunately, such stories were almost uncommon. Society have painted such unions to be seem mediocre and unworthy….as if you were only settling for less if you married unmatched and lived with only a monochromatic setting._

_“You must’ve met your soulmate when you were really young.” Wonshik deduced._

_“I did.” He knew the memory of it would remain ingrained in his mind...his bones...his soul. “And that’s the only thing I know about them. I don’t really remember how they looked like. I just remember petting a dog named Rocky...and a boy and a girl.”_

_“It probably was either one of them.” Wonshik supplied._

_“They both grabbed at me when it happened.” He recounted. “My mom was there with me when it happened but we had no luck. Something...happened after I was touched.”_

_“Which is?” Wonshik’s brow quirked up._

_“A snake appeared out of the bushes. It didn’t attack me or the other kids but it spooked the dog. I got scared and my mom took me away.”_

_Wonshik’s face turned sombre, almost pale. “That’s a.  . . .”_

_“—a bad omen.” Hongbin nodded._

_“...how did you know?” Then, Wonshik looked guilty as if he hadn’t meant to ask an insensitive question._

_With a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, Hongbin nodded again. “My mom looked for a Seer after what happened. She hoped that the Seer would be able to help me find my soulmate….”_

_Seers were the rare kind of people who could see color before being unmatched. They had a magic of their own that’s intertwined strongly with the color of magic so people tended to hire them for consultants for their search of soulmates. However, not much about them was known to the public since they guarded their secrets tightly behind sealed lips and closed doors.  No one outside the Seer community knew how their powers worked to help people find their soulmates._

_Shifting visibly from discomfort, Wonshik said. “I’m...sorry.”_

_Hongbin chuckled, hoping to change the topic. “It’s all in the past, Wonshik. Nothing can change it.”_

_._

_._

_._

Hakyeon was late and he knew it.

He briefly checked his reflection in the glass shop window, smoothing down his fringe as he tried to catch his breath. He blinked at the large Starbucks logo beaming down onto him, wondering if he should buy desserts as an apology  for his tardiness; it had been difficult to find a parking spot during lunch hour. He pushed at the front glass door, eyes darting around to locate a familiar face.

The cafe was quite crowded with a long line already at the front counter, filled with loud chatter.

He recognized her profile as she scrolled through her feed on her phone, hand absently swirling the straw of one of the two drinks sitting before her. He thought she looked pretty with her hair up, noting the curve of her nose as she took a sip from her coffee.

“Hello, pretty lady.” Hakyeon smiled benignly as he walked up to her.

“Hey, stranger.” Hana grinned.

He settled into the chair opposite to her, muttering a simple thanks when she passed the drink across the table towards him. Relaxing, he let himself indulge in the twinkle of her eyes and sink into his chair. It has been a few days since the first night they met at the bar.

“You’re late.” She said without any bite.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Wonshik needed someone to pick him up from soccer practice.”

She raised a brow, looking amused. “Doesn’t he have his own car? Why were you his chauffeur?”

“The idiot lent his car to another friend...and said friend was way in the opposite direction so I had to take the bus to pick it up.” Hakyeon said dryly.

He loved Wonshik dearly but the lad was too trusting when it came to his car. He lent it out too easily like he was a free vehicle provider and sometimes, Hakyeon wished, he could smack Wonshik for being too nice in lending his car to . . . unpleasant ‘friends’.

Hana chuckled. “What are you? His mom?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Hakyeon answered with a hint of pride that did not go unnoticed by Hana. It made her shake her head. “I’ve known that kid for so long, I practically raised him.”

“Did you really?” She smirked.

“...only in high school.” He amended sheepishly before taking a sip, which made Hana laugh.

He tried not to grimace at the taste when it hit his tongue; he barely tolerated coffee. He didn’t like the bitter flavor and always prefer frappuccinos that had  too much sugar and milk, usually paired with lots of desserts. Hongbin used to tease him for downing a cupcake for every sip of coffee he took.

“So you’ve been friends for a few years now?” Hana asked, absently twirling her straw with interest.

“About five years, yeah.”

A stray fringe fell across her face and Hakyeon reached over without thinking, brushing it out of her face, careful to avoid direct contact to  her forehead. His stomach did a flip when he saw the blush blooming on her cheeks.

Some couples avoided skin-to-skin contact before they were ready to find out whether they were matched. Hakyeon knew he was perhaps being slightly bold but the chemistry from that night a few days ago was still buzzing in his mind, recalling the way they had their arms wrapped around each other; touches separated by layers of clothes.

He continued as if his heart hadn’t suddenly started to race. “By the way, are you hungry? Do you want some cake?”

“No, thanks.” She shook her head a little. “I’m not big on sugary food.”

Hakyeon was about to gasp before suddenly…

“Hyung?”

He halted and blinked in surprise, looking up to the familiar beaming face of “...Sanghyuk?”

“Hello!” The younger waved eagerly.

Hakyeon hadn’t seen his junior approaching but in the back of his mind, he thought vaguely that Sanghyuk looked good in dark jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. His eyes wandered onto the sight of the exposed arms before he immediately remembered who he was supposed to be on a lunch date with.

“Ah!” Sanghyuk piped as he finally took notice of Hana and bowed, slightly apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, it’s okay, Sanghyuk.” Hana grinned., waving dismissively. “Actually, you’re here for lunch?”

“Yeah, I am, noona.” He readjusted the strap of his bulky backpack on his shoulder.

“Alone?” she asked, mildly surprised.

“Yeah, I’ll be off then, I don’t want to—,”

“Why don’t you join us?” Hana offered courteously.

Hakyeon's eyebrows shot up to his fringe before he could school his expression into a neutral one. He didn’t dislike Sanghyuk . . . but he _had_ come all this way for a lunch date with Hana. Did she . . . simply _not_ see this as a date meant just for the two of them? Was this merely a casual hangout?

To his slight dismay, Hana patted an empty chair at their table and invited Sanghyuk to join them. He smiled at Sanghyuk, albeit slightly restrained this time, and took another sip of his drink again.  Sanghyuk at least had the decency to look uncomfortable on Hakyeon’s behalf.

“Noona, I was just thinking about getting some food to-go.” The younger man looked between the two of them, visibly concerned.

“I’m going to buy some food.” Hakyeon announced, moving to get up.

“Ah, no, hyung.” Sanghyuk got up again, hand outstretched at him. “I’ll go get it. What would you like to eat? Noona?”

 _‘Okay, I like this kid.’_ he thought fleetingly, smiling with appreciation. They both decided their orders and Sanghyuk got in line into the considerable queue at the counter. Hakyeon folded his arms on the table before turning to Hana, who laid her hand onto his clothed sleeve.

“Sorry about that.” She apologized. “I just feel bad for Sanghyuk.”

“It’s okay.” He tilted his head, smirking. “Maybe I should take you away on a proper date...just the two of us.”

A dust of color bloomed onto her cheeks, which made his heart flutter. “I’d like that.”

They talked a little more, in soft tones, indulging in this short window of opportunity before Sanghyuk came back. He talked about Wonshik’s soccer game, where they typically have post-game parties and asked if she would like to come. She wouldn’t mind but her classes were backing up (which he’d already expected for her being a chemistry student) but she’d promised try to make time to be with him and the thought pleased him greatly.

By the time Sanghyuk came back with food, Hana’s phone buzzed.

“Ah, excuse me.” she left the table momentarily to answer the call.

Sanghyuk and Hakyeon dug into their food with gusto. The elder watched Sanghyuk with mild amusement, seeing him hum a deeply satisfied sigh after he took the first bite of his spaghetti.

“How have you been, Sanghyuk?” he attempted at light conversation.

“Yeah, I’ve been good.” He wiped at the sauce on the corner of his lip with a napkin. “You, hyung?”

“Good, too.” Hakyeon nodded. “I heard you have a match coming up soon.”

“That’s the rumor,” Sanghyuk smiled. “Will you be coming though? I don’t know if Wonshik-hyung has invited you.”

“He hasn’t but he’ll probably will.” He said with certainty. “Even if he doesn’t, I usually show up anyway; I’m his cheerleader, even though he doesn’t want to admit it.”

Eyes crinkling, Sanghyuk chuckled. “Okay then.”

Hakyeon briefly recalled the last time they met, in the living space of Hongbin’s and Wonshik’s shared dorm. That had been a rough weekend to survive. Then, he remembered seeing Sanghyuk walking about the room and the way he had looked at Hongbin like he was—

“I’ll probably be bringing Hongbin to the game too.” He blurted without thinking. “He usually avoids crowds but I’d come up with a way to lure him out of the studio.”

“Is he...like chained to his studio?” Sanghyuk wiped at the sauce from the corner of his mouth. “I recall he said he was an architecture student.”

“He’s chained to his work.” Hakyeon shrugged, gears in his mind turning.

Biting down the insides of his cheeks, he was trying to think of a way to broach the topic of the Sanghyuk’s Strange Look at Hongbin. He knew he probably shouldn’t probe but well, he was _simply_ curious. Sometimes, he did it mainly because he was worried for Hongbin; he didn’t like to socialize very much. Before he could say anything more, he felt something landed on his shoulder. He carefully turned, finding Hana’s hand there before it slid down to lightly grip at his arm.

“I…” she worried her bottom lip with a bite. “...have to go.”

“What?” He blinked in surprise. “Wait, why?”

“My lab partner just called me. He said that one of our acid samples in the lab was wrongly mixed and he’s freaking out. He says he needs to come over to the lab right away.” She clutched her phone with a burdened look.

Hakyeon’s brows shot up. “That doesn’t sound...good.”

“We’re dealing with hydrolic acids for our assignments so if he’s not careful, he could potentially burn himself.”

“I thought that’s why you wear lab equipment!” Sanghyuk piped in panic.

She sighed. “Hence, why I need to go. My partner can be jittery when he’s under lots of stress. I need to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”

Hakyeon wanted to argue that her partner was capable of taking care of himself without her but her hand trailed lower, tugging on the hem of his sleeve, close enough to _touch_. “Dinner?” she smiled hesitantly.

He was briefly conflicted. However, as he felt her warm touch being so close, he conceded resignedly. “I’ll...pick you up then.”

“I’ll text you the time.” Her smile reached her eyes and Hakyeon had a fleeting urge to kiss her.

He didn’t give into the urge and merely relished the squeeze around his clothed wrist before she took her cup of coffee, bid both of them goodbye and walked off. When she was out of the coffee shop, Hakyeon leaned back into his chair, sighing mournfully, which made Sanghyuk chuckle.

“Ouch,” he simply said with sympathy.

Hakyeon shrugged. “If I ever meet her lab partner, I’m gonna sock him in the eye.”

Sanghyuk laughed and merely resumed eating his spaghetti. Hakyeon pondered thoughtfully, hands lacing around his cold coffee drink that he had a feeling he wasn’t going to finish it. “You’re seeing anyone, Sanghyuk?” He asked, absently stirring the dark liquid with the straw.

“Nope,” Sanghyuk shook his head.

“Oh?” Hakyeon was genuinely surprised. “Really?”

Sanghyuk looked at him, both brows raised in question, which made Hakyeon raise both of his hands placatively. “Apologies in advance for my bisexual ass, I’m just surprised you’re not with anyone because...well... you’re _hot_.”

His tiny trepidation was washed away when Sanghyuk stifled a laugh, sauce staining the corner of his lips again. Sanghyuk put down his fork, wiping his mouth again before saying, “Thanks... I think?”

Relaxing, he stared at the way Sanghyuk’s ears turned pink and tried to quell his urge to coo at how adorable his tall junior was. Biting his lip nervously, Hakyeon contemplated on how to bring Hongbin back into the conversation. He watched the younger nervously brushed his pale locks out of his face before taking a sip of his drink. Only one thought came into mind: _fuck it._

“Would you be interested in dating anyone though?” Hakyeon wrapped tact into a mental burrito and tossed it out the figurative window. “I might know some people to introduce to you.”

Sanghyuk’s hand stilled, halfway to his mouth. “Ah, hyung. Thanks but—”

“What about my friend Hongbin?” He supplied, casually propping an elbow onto the table. “I recall you seemed _...interested.._.the last time you saw him.”

Coloring in the face, Sanghyuk spluttered. “Hyung, please don’t misunderstand.”

Hakyeon leaned his cheek against his knuckles, quirking a brow up. “Oh, Hongbinnie’s not your type? Hmm… my bad, I should probably ask this first: are you straight?”

Sanghyuk was entirely red in the face now, matching the sauce of his spaghetti. “Yes, I am straight, hyung, but that’s…not the point.”

“ _Oh?”_ Hakyeon’s interest was certainly piqued.

The younger shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Hakyeon _almost_ felt bad for putting him on the spot but . . . he cared too much about his dearest Hongbin and he just _had_ to know, even though he already pictured Hongbin and Wonshik would give him karate chops to the head for his insistence. He watched Sanghyuk carefully placed his fork down to fold his hands in his lap. Hakyeon grew nervous; had his prodding been excessive?

“Please don’t freak out, hyung.” Sanghyuk’s voice was smaller.

“O-kay?” Hakyeon was kind of worried now.

What was _going on?_

“Hyung, I can see color too.”

.

.

.

Hongbin heaved a sigh, stroking his camera bag fondly. “Alone, at last.”

He was back in his favorite park with the evening sun burning down the back of his neck. Autumn was fast approaching and he was giddy with excitement at looking at all the trees around the park, thinking of the spectacular arrays of colors they’d change in a matter of weeks. He couldn’t wait for the leaves to change color, the air to be cooler and the wind to sweep through his hair and caress softly at his face.

He loved the vibrancy and gentleness of autumn. He unzipped his bag and pulled out his camera. Pulling off the lens cover, Hongbin swung the camera strap around his neck and relished the weight of his trusty camera, familiar and grounding him with purpose. He briefly scanned his surroundings, assessing for interesting things to capture.

Suddenly, he heard a rustling in the bushes behind him. Spinning on his heel, he turned around, surprised to find the white Siamese cat from a few days ago. Its fluffy head with its pale whiskers peeked out of the green bushes and it blinked its large beautiful blue eyes at him. Heart warming at the sight of it, he let his camera dangle against his chest as he crouched down on his haunches, holding his hand to pet it and the cat sniffed it curiously.

“Never thought I’d see you again,” he said, gently scratching it behind the ears.  “Hi.”

It purred, leaning into his touch.

“Oh, shoot.” He stilled his scratching and the cat blinked up at him silently. “I forgot to bring food this time. I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, there was a distinct clicking.

It sounded like someone clicking their tongue in pet-calling fashion and the cat’s head snapped away from his hand, turning its attention to the source of the sound. It trotted away from Hongbin, drawing his eyes to follow the swish of its tail as it walked up to a young man.

When Hongbin stood up straight and took a good look at the man, he was speechless.

The young man was . . . prismatic; a mirage personified. He was _colorful_ yet he barely looked a few years older than Hongbin himself. The multiple colored leather bands around one of the man’s slender wrists attracted Hongbin’s gaze, taking in the chrome rings adorning delicate yet long fingers as the stranger reached out to pet the cat. A strand of cotton pink hair fell into his feline-like eyes and Hongbin’s eyes were drawn to the matching pink swell of his lips as the man grinned at the cat when it nuzzled into his hand. This man . . . was gorgeous.

Suddenly, he looked up at Hongbin, smiling and his heart stammered at the intense stare.

“Is he yours?” the young man asked politely.

He was rendered astounded at the man’s dainty voice, a complete contrast to his sharp features, the high cheekbones and exquisite jawline. Then, the man tilted his head and Hongbin snapped out of his brief stupor.

“Uh, no…” he replied brilliantly.

“Do you want to feed him?”

Suddenly, he got up to his feet and Hongbin nearly stumbled back at just how _tall_ the man. He wasn’t short himself but the man towered ever so slightly over him. Even his clothes were of vivid colors; purple pants, a navy-and-white striped shirt with a maroon belt. The only thing that wasn’t brightly-colored were his white shoes . . . that had pastel yellow laces. He fished for something in his pocket and Hongbin’s brows shot up to his hair to find a small packet of . . . cat food.

“Here,” the man made a move to pass it to him.

As if on cue, the white cat below them mewled loudly. They both turned, seeing its pink nose raised up, sniffing at the packet in the man’s pale outstretched hand. He chuckled and Hongbin’s smile faltered halfway, taken aback at the twinkle-like quality to the sound. It was a stunning sound.

“T-thanks but you...you can feed him. He’s more interested in you.” He stuttered, embarrassed at himself. He bowed in greeting, wanting to back away slowly.

The man looked at him, the corner of his pretty lips curling up before he kneeled back down to the cat. He started to open the packet and Hongbin remembered about his camera bag. He picked it up and noticed from the corner of his eyes that the man was watching him quietly with interest. Hongbin looked back, bowing politely again with a benign smile. The man returned the gesture with a nod of his head. Before Hongbin’s knees turned to jelly, he quickly dashed off.

He felt the burn of the man’s stare on the back of his head and it egged him to walk faster, footsteps in sync with the thundering in his chest.

When he guessed he had walked far enough, he stopped next to a tree and risked a look behind him. The young man was still crouching on the floor, now looking down at the cat. It reared up, putting its paws onto his knees as he outstretched the treats before it, seeing its tongue tickle his fingertips and it made him giggle. Hongbin instantly noted of the way the man was literally _feeding_ the cat instead of dropping it to the floor like what most people would do.

Even from afar, Hongbin watched the young man like he was a spectacle . . . which he sort of was. While everyone was decked out in dark and pale tones in the park, this man stood out like a _beacon_ of color. The very few people who could see him, which were only an elderly couple and two middle-aged women walking nearby, looked at him in alarm but nobody else paid any attention to him.

Looking away, Hongbin took a deep breath to still the thundering in his chest. He looked down at his own clothes, merely a pale checkered shirt and dark pants. People who’ve been touched by the color of color rarely dressed in extravagant colors; most people didn’t see the appeal of dressing up _after_ finding their soulmates yet _this man_. . .  

Hongbin risked another look.

The man was patting the white cat when Hongbin caught the flick of a tail of another cat—this time, a black one—tentatively walking up towards them. The white cat’s fur stood on edge and it hissed vehemently but the man chuckled. He scooted closer to the black cat, fishing out another small packet of food and resumed feeding.

Hongbin slowly backed away and uneasiness filled deep in his gut.

The young man . . . saw color too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally. They meet!  
> *collapses* I know that I've said the story would be a slow burn but I was dying for TaekBin to finally meet.  
> Well, now, hopefully the plot will move. 
> 
> I hope yall have enjoyed reading it so far~


	5. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some truths pop up like flowers; blooming and demanding to be seen.

.

 

.

 

.

 

 **.** **four** **.**

 

_‘It's a damn cold night,_

_Trying to figure out this life._

_Won't you take me by the hand?_

_Take me somewhere new.’_

 

— Avril Lavigne, ‘I’m With You'

 

.

 

“You...can see color?” Hakyeon blurted.

“Well…” Sanghyuk hesitated. “In a way, yes.”

Hakyeon’s eyes widened, flabbergasted, to say the least. “Elaborate, please.”

There wasn’t another way to be able to see color _unless_ you already have met _and_ touched your soulmate; that much Hakyeon knew was fact. So, his mind was racing over a thousand thoughts. Sanghyuk squirmed a little under his gaze and his curiosity burned down to his fingertips, inciting an urge of _something._

“I’m a Seer, hyung.” the young man admitted.

The words were like a slap across the face. Hakyeon's brows were lost in his fringe as his mind reared at this information. Sanghyuk . . . was a _Seer._

Suddenly, he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands and he was beginning to feel the first tremors of a mild panic building inside himself.

“A Seer?” he echoed, sounding small.

“A Seer.” Sanghyuk smiled benignly as if they were talking about the weather.

Skepticism gnawed at the back of Hakyeon’s mind and trepidation settled in. Seers were typically dodgy people, preferably to be avoided, and they rarely publicised themselves . . . unless they wanted _money_.

They exploited their ‘talents’ for their greed, thriving on desperate people searching for soulmates who dared to approach their kind. For a fleeting thought, Hakyeon’s hands nearly shot to his wallet as he wondered if Sanghyuk was going to take his money forcibly . . . but seeing the apprehensive look Sanghyuk was sporting, his movements halted.

He realized that the young man had offered his magical identity almost freely; not exactly the stereotype of a rapacious Seer.

“Now that's out, hyung, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell people about it.” Sanghyuk’s voice broke through his reverie.

“I...I don't plan to—no, I don't want to.” Hakyeon sat up straighter, trying to ease his nerves. He nearly squeezed his plastic cup, crumbling its shape under his shaking grip. “I'm so, _so_ sorry though, Sanghyuk. I practically forced it out of you, I didn't mean—,”

Sanghyuk chuckled as he raised a hand placatively. “Its okay, hyung. I had a feeling you'd ask me that eventually...and I am disclosing this willingly because of, well, Hongbin-hyung.” He admitted, honestly. “I can see that he’s touched by color.”

Hakyeon quirked a brow. “Is that why…you looked at him funny the last time?”

A furious color spread across Sanghyuk’s cheeks and it took a lot from Hakyeon to not crumble, to reach across the tablet to give the younger some aggressive pinches. “I...did?”

“You were as subtle as a rock.” Hakyeon admitted point-blank, fighting a smile.

“Ah.” Sanghyuk ended awkwardly, blushing harder.

It drove Hakyeon to small burst of giggles; Sanghyuk was _adorable._

Sanghyuk almost looked sheepish as he said. “There aren't that many people who are touched by color as young as Hongbin-hyung… It's not common.”

The elder made a generic ‘ah’ of understanding.

“How are you able to see it on Hongbin though?” He asked, genuinely intrigued. However, he then seemed to remember of Sanghyuk’s predicament so he leaned closer, bowing his head slightly to say softly, almost whispering. “How do you Seers see it if I may ask?”

“Well, it’s like… you know how we see black and white everywhere?” When Hakyeon nodded, Sanghyuk continued, absently twirling his fork. “Whenever I see people who've matched, only they appear colored in my black and white vision. I can see the browns in their hair, the blues or green of their clothes.”

“What if they touch someone else?” Hakyeon asked, tilting his head.

“Hmm?” Sanghyuk hummed, asking for an elaboration.

Hakyeon racked his brain for a moment, trying to think of an example. “Let's say if you see a girl who's already matched and she hugs her family like a brother or sister, do they not appear colored to you too?” he trailed off, hoping that Sanghyuk caught his drift.

“Well...no.” Sanghyuk concluded. “Only the girl remains colored. Anyone unmatched will remain monochromatic, point blank.”

“Ah so it's like someone used a mask layer in real life.” Hakyeon murmured aloud, mind racing.

“A what now?” the younger asked.

A beat passed. Hakyeon nearly cursed himself right then; Hongbin and his photo-editing lingo was getting to him.

“Nothing.” He shook his head, dismissing the earlier slip-up. “So you’re able to see color on Hongbin.”

“Yeah.” Sanghyuk reaffirmed.

Hakyeon sunk back into his chair, unsure what to do with this information before him. Astounded as he was about Sanghyuk, it brought a whole new set of questions.

“Are you planning to tell him about it though?” His brows furrowed with deep concern. “That you can see color off him?”

Sanghyuk raised his cup halfway, straw suspended before his lips. Then, he looked at Hakyeon, noticing the slightly stern curl of his mouth. “Is it crucial that I tell him?”

Hakyeon bit his lip with uncertainty. Seers rarely ever did share their secrets but he knew Hongbin detested that he's been touched by color and had kept it hidden from a lot of people for so long; the only other people who was aware about Hongbin’s condition was Wonshik and Hongbin’s father. Hakyeon wasn’t sure how Hongbin would react to Sanghyuk knowing this secret he guarded so closely to himself, even though it wasn't the junior’s fault _or_ within his control.

“Hongbin can keep secrets very well.” He decided to explain instead. “If he's hellbent on keeping his secret, which he’s been doing for years, he can definitely keep yours...and I will too.”

He willed the words hang in the there for Sanghyuk to ponder with a optimistic promise.

The younger’s brows furrowed in slightly. “Why does he keep it a secret though? I mean, don’t people usually... I dunno, _flaunt_ that they can see color with their soulmates?”

“Well, Hongbin’s a special case. He doesn’t know who his soulmate is.”

The horrified look on Sanghyuk’s face and the near drop of his fork from his hand didn’t make Hakyeon feel better. He knew too well how sensitive the magic of color affected his best friend and the prospect of having to tell Hongbin that a relative stranger like Sanghyuk, despite how sweet he was, could see his secret sprouted deep concern. Sanghyuk heaved heavily through his nose, absently scratching the back of his hair with a hint of nervousness.

“I guess I’ll have to tell him eventually.” The younger concluded.

Hakyeon almost breathed in relief. “Thank you.”

They sat in brief silence. Hakyeon took another sip of his coffee, cringing hard and decided he wasn’t going to _ever_ drink it willingly again.  

“How long has he been able to see color, if I may ask?” Sanghyuk asked, twirling his fork to take a mouthful of his spaghetti.

“Since he was five years old.”

Sanghyuk nearly choked. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, understatement of the century.” Hakyeon added lethargically, memories of how he first met Hongbin and witnessed how he was treated back then left a sour taste in his mouth.  “He didn't have an easy time growing up as you can imagine. People liked to torment him...taunt him...as if he was defunct for not clinging onto his soulmate when they met.”

“That's unfair, he was only a child!”

Hakyeon’s lips quirked involuntarily. Sanghyuk was a really decent kid.

“Children can be horrible...” Hakyeon sighed.

.

.

.

_“Mom…”_

_Twelve-year-old Hongbin sat on the countertop of their modest kitchen, dangling and swaying his legs over the edge, as he watched her cutting up vegetables to make his favorite soup. It was the weekend before the school holidays start and she figured it would be nice to spend some time together; her husband would be back soon._

_“Hmm?” She hummed, passing a small piece of carrot to have him eat._

_“How do people...know they've found their soulmates?” he asked timidly, munching a little._

_She turned to look at him, mildly surprised, but he had turned away, shielding his eyes with his long overgrown bangs. He had taken a habit to hiding his face and whenever she tried to fix his hair up, he would bat her hands away and bat it down. He hardly smiled lately too. It worried her sometimes because his smiles were typically only reserved for her or his father. She had a vague feeling that he hardly smiled in public anymore._

_“Why the sudden question, dear?” her tone was patient and fond._

_He didn’t meet her eyes, taking another bite, obviously trying to delay an answer. She sighed slightly, turning back to sweep the chopped vegetables into the cooking pan with the flat of her knife._

_“The magic only appears when there is direct skin to skin contact. If you saw color after immediately touching someone, that person is your soulmate.” She explained, before realizing. “Binnie dear, you already know this. Why are you asking again?”_

_Her tone had been the gentlest and most loving but Hongbin had flinched terribly as if she had slapped him or hit him with the blade of the knife. Seeing her son's reaction, she put down the utensil and turned down the fire to a low. She reached for him, cradling his face up to her but his eyes were stubbornly looking away. Suddenly, she caught a glimpse of color clinging to his hair._

_He heard her inhale sharply._

_“Mom?” He turned._

_His blood turned cold at the silent rage written on her face; she was always a mild-tempered lady but right then, she looked_ vicious. _Absolutely livid. She had her lips pressed into a tight line, brows slanted angrily and her expression merely spelt murder. White panic filled his stomach; had his sulking gone too far?_

 _"_ _Mom, I’m sor—,”_

_She gently tugged at the piece of color sticking to his hair and instantly, the very pit of his stomach shriveled up, leaving a cold abyss raging inside him._

_“Who put this on you, Binnie?”_

_Carefully, she peeled off the wad of dried dirty gum from his hair. Hongbin paled, he had hoped that he had successfully scrubbed off every single piece of evidence of how . . ._ those _people treated him in school today. It had been difficult to walk home, smelling of rotting eggs and expired coagulated paint, clinging onto his uniform that he had quickly taken a shower once at home, ran out to a secluded part of the neighborhood and burned his uniform._

_The chewing gum had been a nightmare to remove._

_“I said, who put this on you, Hongbin?” Her tone was bone chilling and cold._

_“Mom, it really doesn’t matter. The school year is out and—,”_

_“You’re transferring schools.” She stated, eyes twitching as her hands shook to control her ire._

_“...I had planned on it.”_

_He was about the right age to go into secondary school so he had considered on a few institutes a little faraways from here. He figured hopping on buses would be sufficient way to travel the extra distance. He had hoped he’d be able to go somewhere that he’d be able to keep his secret. She released a shaky sigh before tossing the gum into a trashcan, latching onto her son tightly that he nearly stumbled off the counter._

_“Mom…” he tried not to shift under her weight even though the contact made him mildly awkward. “...I'll be fine. I'll be transferring anyway, no one's gonna hurt me there.”_

_He wasn't sure if how his tone or the words he used had touched a nerve but suddenly, he felt her release another shaky sigh, followed with a few sniffles, that Hongbin instantly recognized: she began to sob._

_“Mom…” he desperately tried to keep the petulant whine in his tone to a minimal. “...mom, it’ll be okay.”_

_His words didn’t soothe her anxieties but he let her hold onto him, rubbing circles on her back, smiling absentmindedly as she tightened her arms around her only son._

.

.

.

Hongbin sat at his desk in the studio, staring at his camera lying on top of the wooden table. His desk was moderately messy, rolls of butter paper with masking tape scattered the surface and the pieces of cut manila cards dangling haphazardly over the edge. He absently turned the dial with a finger even though the camera was off and the clicking rang loud in the silence, almost mimicking the cogs turning in his mind. His thoughts were swimming, trying to ripple through the myriad of colors—maroon, navy, green, yellow, white, _pink—_ in his mind’s eye until he felt a hard tap on his shoulder.

“Hey, Binnie.” A familiar voice greeted.

He turned around, looking up at Wonshik who appeared.

“Yo. Back from soccer?” He asked, gesturing at the small duffel bag, also noting that Wonshik looked like he just showered, smelling strongly of lavender body wash and a hint of cologne.

“Yeah. Mind if I park my ass here?”

Without waiting for an answer, Wonshik dropped his bag onto the cleanest spot on Hongbin’s desk and sink into the empty chair next to him.

“Why, yes, help yourself.” Hongbin’s tone was sardonic but there was no underlying bite.

Wonshik chuckled, already picking up a random charcoal pencil and twirling it between his fingers. Hongbin disliked it when people touched his stationery and Wonshik knew that, smiling as he placed the pencil beneath his nose and pursed his lips forward trying to balance it.

Eyes narrowed, Hongbin tried not to give into the urge to boop Wonshik hard on the nose with his knuckles.

“Got any good photos?” Wonshik titled his head towards Hongbin's camera.

“Yeah.” Hongbin answered absently before he paused, looking up.

Biting down his lip, he took a sweeping glance through the studio as if he was afraid someone might come and snoop in. Raising a brow amusedly, Wonshik made no comment about it; sometimes Hongbin got too paranoid that people in the university would rat at him seeing color . . . but no one really cared too much at this institute.

“My game is this weekend.” Wonshik announced as he tried to ease his roommate's unease.

“Oh? Already?” Hongbin blinked.

“Whad'ya mean ‘already’?” Wonshik gently bumped his fist against Hongbin’s shoulder. “I've been telling you and Hakyeon-hyung about it for more than a week. Please tell me you'll come, please, please, _please_.”

“...but there will be _people_.” Hongbin whined, picking up a roll of masking tape, scraping the end with a blunt fingernail. “...and more...people.”

“So?” Wonshik insisted, indignantly. “You need to come!”

“...and be Hakyeon-hyung’s third wheel? No thanks, man. My drawings will be better company.” Hongbin cringed, ripping off the masking tape to plaster on his drafting board

His roommate’s eyes widened. “He's bringing someone?”

Hongbin looked as if he just asked a dumb question. “Mr. Bisexual Flirt of the Century is definitely gonna bring Hana to the game as his date. Have you not been following his M.O.?”

“Should I?” Wonshik asked, perplexed. “I really don't wanna know how Hakyeon likes to flirt his way into people's pants and—,”

“I don't mean that, you fucking pervert!” Hongbin threw a pair of scissors at him.  

Wonshik glared, barely catching the pair of scissors still sealed in its box after it hit him on the arm.  Eyeing it with slight interest, Wonshik twirled it with his fingers. “He did seem pretty into her.”

Rolling his eyes, Hongbin remarked. “He's into everyone.”

“...I hope you didn't mean that literally—ow!”

“One more word from you and I'll be cutting.” Hongbin threatened, picking one of them up.

Wonshik chuckled. “Fine, fine, you prude.”

Hongbin decided to be mature about it and stuck his tongue at his roommate, who cackled in return. They soon settled in a comfortable silence as Wonshik kept twirling his tape and Hongbin started to clean his desk. Putting his camera into the bag, he placed it near to Wonshik’s side and caught the slow smirk curling on his roommate’s face.

“You know…’ Wonshik began conspiratorially.

“Stop.” Hongbin pointed a finger at him because he _knew_ where Wonshik was going with that sentence.

“...if you didn't wanna be a third wheel, you could _actually—,”_

_“Kim Wonshik.”_

“—like—”

“Yah!”

“—bring—,”

“Shut up!”

“—someonewithyou.”

Wonshik expected the barrage of not-so-gentle punches Hongbin delivered onto his arm but it was worth seeing the darkening of Hongbin’s cheeks as he huffed, turning away to hide his face.

“Sanghyuk will be there.” Wonshik offered with a wide sheepish grin. “Although he'll mainly be on the field.”

“...Hakyeon-hyung told you, didn't he?”

“Every bit of it.” Wonshik smiled. “I think you two can get along.”

“Oh god.”

“He's a decent kid!” Wonshik cried out with a defensive shrug. “All you need to do is not look so dead for the weekend. Maybe have Hakyeon-hyung put some make-up on you.”

“Why would I wanna do that?” Hongbin sneered.

“Uh, flirt?” Suddenly, Wonshik stroked an imaginary beard, eyeing Hongbin’s face mock-critically. “Gonna need more work though.”

“You asshole.” Hongbin said but without any bite.

Wonshik wriggled his eyebrows smugly. “Oh, hush, I'm your best friend.”

“Says who?”

“Says the universe...or were you planning to say Hakyeon-hyung is your best friend?”

Wonshik nearly doubled over at Hongbin’s pinched expression as though he was smelling bad food before having to eat it. “I’m more worried if he'll suddenly cling onto me in front of his date.”

“Yeah, he's quite shameless like that.” Wonshik shrugged. “Better you than me. We're playing a friendly one against the Tigers tonight.”

Hongbin’s brows shot up. “Oh?”

Wonshik’s team, the Wolves, have had a long history with the neighbouring university’s team, the Tigers. They've had a withstanding somewhat friendly rivalry for years even before they enrolled into the institute; matches between the two teams were rare but always a pleasure to watch.

Hongbin knew Wonshik was particularly excited to play against the Tigers ever since he joined the soccer team because according to rumors, the post-game party after the match was _always_ a thrill. Hongbin hardly believed the gossip though, the most they'd experience is just a bunch of college students playing beer pong and getting silly drunk.

“You can be the team's cheerleader.” Wonshik grinned slyly. “Sungjae stepped down from mascot and you can show up in pom-pons and a miniskirt—,”

“Shut up.”

“—and sometimes, for shits and giggles, the mascot would start cartwheeling and do splits mid-air like—,”

Hongbin deadpanned. “I hope you literally break a leg this weekend.”

“Oof.” Wonshik stumbled back, clutching his chest as though Hongbin had physically hit him. “Why don't you just let me love you?”

“Hush, you sensitive butt.” Hongbin snapped but not without trying to hold back a smile.

Wonshik guffawed, nose scrunching. “So you'll come?”

A gentle smile briefly curled on Hongbin’s lips before he shrugged, nonchalantly _._ “We'll see.”

.

.

.

_“Yo.” Wonshik greeted._

_Hongbin waved at him before he saw Wonshik swinging something at him. With fast reflexes, he caught the juice box Wonshik had unceremoniously tossed at him. Humming a small thanks, Hongbin ripped the straw off the packaging as Wonshik joined him on the floor, with a few packets of snacks and some wrapped foods from the cafeteria, cool under the shade of the stairwell roof overhang._

_The school year was almost over and they decided spending time on the sweltering hot roof was probably a good way to celebrate, compared to their classmates who were crowding and hooting in the canteen below._

_“Wanna hang out this summer?”_

_“At the mall?” Hongbin grinned, dimples flashing._

_He didn't particularly liked going to the mall but he wasn't gonna miss out on hanging out with friends. Hakyeon was busy wandering the corridors below, as expected of him as being Head Boy but they knew he’d hang out with them after school. Wonshik had decided to relax from his class president duties and keep a low profile._

_“They opened a new arcade next to the rock-climbing gym at the top floor, although we’re probably be swinging there too.” Wonshik’s smile was mischievous. “We're dragging Hakyeon-hyung along when school’s out.”_

_“Sure.” Hongbin hummed, taking a sip._

_“Then, we’re gonna hang him upside down from the top of the wall.”_

_“...I don’t think that’s how rock-climbing works.”_

_“We could try?” Wonshik suggested, grinning sheepishly._

_With a severely pinched yet amused look, Hongbin threw the small bag of chips squarely into Wonshik’s face, which the latter managed to catch with a loud laugh. He ripped the bag open and started eating the chips, wondering aloud how they were gonna toss Hakyeon up on the wall._

_The noise from the canteen a few floors below could be heard up here, making a light buzz of excitement settle in the air. Hongbin couldn't wait for the holidays, being able to sleep late, binge eat whatever he wanted and not do anything for the whole day. Well, he could blast his music aloud in his room and just read some books._

_He couldn't wait for all the free time he was going to have. They sat silently in the shade for a while, Wonshik rocking back and forth as  he sipped his drink, while Hongbin munched on some chocolate chips cookies, humming gently under his breath. The warm breeze came, caressing the trees and making the chain-link fence rattle lightly with the wind. The buzz from below had quietened and the compound was peaceful._

_He liked this a lot._

_He was about to suggest to Wonshik they head back to class before the bell when all of a sudden, the door to the rooftop swung open. The rusty hinges screeched and the panel ricocheted off the concrete wall with an almighty ‘BANG!’_

_“Oi, color freak!”_

_Kibum appeared, smug as if he'd hit the jackpot . . . and he wasn’t alone. He’d brought his entire gang again, all looking identical, short and grotesque like a pesky swarm._

_“Seriously? This isn't over?” Hongbin snapped._

_He felt Wonshik fidget uncomfortably next to him as they slowly got up to their feet, Hongbin had a feeling that since the school year was nearing to an end, he could probably end this stupid barrage of tyranny on his safety and Wonshik’s. Kibum loomed before him but the effect, once used to intimidate Hongbin, made him want to roll his eyes. The blatant showcase of power was becoming increasingly stale and Hongbin has had enough of them bringing trouble to him when he has done nothing but simply_ exist _._

_Wonshik got up to snarl at Kibum but Hongbin held him back with a hand._

_“Aw, how sweet. You're afraid your boyfriend would get hurt?” Kibum bared his yellowing teeth at them in what was supposed to be a sly grin. Hongbin thought it was rather disgusting to see the telltale signs of chainsmoking lingering in Kibum’s mouth._

_“Seriously? A homophobic threat? How do you still have brain cells?” He groaned, running his hand down his face as if he was burdened by Kibum’s stupidity; it surely felt like it._

_One of the cronies slipped a small chuckle and he squeaked when Kibum glared at him like a tiger catching its prey. Wonshik looked dumbfounded at Hongbin as if he wasn’t sure if what he was perceiving was even real._

_“Wonshik, let’s g—,”_

_“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Kibum snarled._

_Hongbin waved a hand as if brisking him off. “Nowhere near here, let’s just g—,”_

_“You’re not going anywhere.”_

_Before he could blink, Kibum had closed the distance and gripped at the front of his shirt, reeling Hongbin back into a wall. The impact knocked the wind out of him, he barely registered Wonshik’s panicked cry nor the way the cronies hooted as Kibum’s fists on his chest dug against his skin, sending spots of pain behind his eyes._

_“Look at you, piece of trash, thinking you can walk all over everyone.”_

_Hongbin balked, nauseous of Kibum’s putrid breath. “You’re no different, you’re abusing your so-called friends to hurt people just because you’re an insecure p—,”_

_“Shut up.”_

_The blinding pain strike to his abdomen nearly made him see white. Hongbin involuntarily coughed, instinctively curling—it_ **hurt** _—and his mind spiralled into a dizzying haze as his blood thumped harder in his ears, mixed with the retching noises threatening to rip from his tongue. He practically threw Hongbin against the wall, making the back of his head collide with the cement._

_“Hongbin!” Wonshik yelled, trying to rush to his side._

_Suddenly, two scrawny guys seized the scrawnier Wonshik by the forearms and he struggled against their hold, watching Kibum idly walking as if in not so deep thought. Hongbin heaved heavily, the pit of his stomach stinging with every laboured breath. He risked a look at Kibum, seeing that the bigger was eyeing him, wondering which part of him he should break first._

_Kibum strode up close to him again, seeing Hongbin steady himself again, still looking winded._

_“Pathetic. Only one hit and you’re down. You're all bark but no bite, freak.” Kibum spat._

_A fierce flash of anger flicked inside Hongbin. All those weeks of hurt . . . all those bruises and cuts he’d accumulated in the past . . . all simply because he ‘earned’ something he did not wish. It brought a vicious kind of beast roaring inside, wanting to bare long fangs at the injustice it suffered._

_“Fuck you.”_

_Barely getting to contemplate his options, he had a fleeting thought that maybe he would regret this. Hongbin winded an arm back and aimed his clenched fist squarely into the bridge of Kibum's nose. It was like watching a slow-motion picture suddenly shifted to speeding up. He registered the crunch of bones, unsure if it was his own or Kibum’s, watching him reel back from the force and a white hot pain that grated through his very psyche through his rage._

_It felt awful._

_His arm hurt badly, his fist unbearably in agony and a scream ripped from his tongue. He tried not to obviously cradle his pulsing hand but the damage was done. His punch wasn't the strongest but the sheer shock factor of jt made Kibum stumble back slightly, hollering in agony as he clutched—was that . . ._ blood?

_The compelling urge to vomit returned, shooting up his throat and he almost tasted it, acidic and bitter, in his mouth. His knees gave out and he braced himself for the floor, thinking that he probably fucked this up._

_“H-Hongbin.” Wonshik whispered._

_He stepped on one crony’s foot, making him release Wonshik involuntarily and the other squeaked like a coward, sprinting off before Wonshik could follow up with anything. He ran up to Hongbin, gripping onto his shaking shoulder and blood pumped through his head like the bass drum of his adrenaline._

_“Hongbin!”_

_“Wonshik.” Hongbin’s voice was hoarse._

_He gripped onto Hongbin's quivering frame, pulling him up to his jelly legs._

_“You just—,”_

_“You piece of shit.”_

_They barely saw Kibum’s fist flying at Hongbin before it collided with his cheek and the blinding pain that came with it felt like his head was split in half. Wonshik stood, petrified. Hongbin stumbled back, landing in a heap on the floor. As he looked up, touching the pain blooming on his cheek, he saw a dark look crossed Wonshik’s features and for one genuine moment, he was_ afraid _of Wonshik._

_“Oh, shit.”_

_“Like I said,” Kibum spat onto the floor. Hongbin saw the dark blob of blood staining against the asphalt. “you're all bark but no—,”_

_“You know.” Wonshik's voice felt like it could cut ice, sending a menacing shiver down his spine. “You're really annoying and completely unoriginal with your insults.”_

_The second sound of bones crunching loudly under Wonshik’s hand, it brought a wave of nausea over Hongbin and he hurled a little on the floor, seeing Kibum bellow in outrage. His vision blinking, he saw Wonshik’s and Kibum’s fists flying and the ugly feeling of helplessness consumed him as his vision turned dark._

_._

_._

_._

_He wasn't sure how long he was unconscious—or_ how _he even managed to pass out—but when he opened his eyes, he found himself lying on his back, staring up at a white ceiling. Where was he? Slowly, he tried to get up but it instantly proved to be a bad idea. He barely got to blink before fires of pain erupted in his veins, making him wish he could simply shut everything off._

_“Hey.” Wonshik greeted, dryly._

_Hongbin snapped his head and found Wonshik looked like hell; a large purple bruise was blossoming onto his cheek, a bandage clinging onto the ugly cut at his eyebrow and the blood on the corner of his mouth was dry and clumpy._

_“What the hell...” Hongbin’s mouth felt like sandpaper._

_Wonshik grinned . . . although it was more of a grimace as he flinched in pain. “You should’ve seen Kibum.”_

_“What did you—,”_

_There was a loud sound of someone clearing their throat. They both turned and Hongbin was shocked to see Principal Park standing in the doorway, next to a petite school nurse. She didn't look particularly happy that the middle-aged man had shown up._

_“You two, my office. Now.”_

_They shared a skeptical look but said nothing more. Hongbin limped as he tried to balance on his aching feet and Wonshik offered a hand. Muttering a soft thanks, Wonshik draped Hongbin’s arm over his shoulder and they both limped away from the bed, trying to catch up with the principal who'd already left the room, walking to his office. Hongbin smiled wobbly at the nurse, who returned it sombrely._

_Principal Park’s office was fairly spacious despite the large oak desk set in the centre. Hongbin was surprised to find, of all people,_ Hakyeon _, sitting in one of the chairs across the desk. He looked winded, jacket unbuttoned and his tie lopsidedly with his hair slightly unkempt as if he had ran all the way into this office. Skepticism gnawed inside him; this_ can’t _be good. Wonshik helped him into one of the seats and he barely met Hakyeon’s gaze, where a storm of worry was visible in his eyes._

_“I am disappointed in both of you...especially you, Wonshik.” Principal Park’s tone was clipped and stern, eyeing them both down with a critical eye through his frameless glasses._

_“What did they do, sir?” Hakyeon’s voice was gentle._

_Principal Park merely glared down at both of them as if the truth was more impactful from one or the other. Hongbin thought the notion was rather disgusting; they had been trying to defend themselves . . . so why was he looking at them as if_ they _were the troublemakers?_

_It was Wonshik who answered, deflating in his chair. “Hongbin punched Kibum.”_

_Hakyeon’s eyes widened in utter shock. “Hon—,”_

_“Horrific actions of violence aren’t taken lightly in this school.” Principal Park straightened his back as if to appear more intimidating._

_Feeling the bitter taste in his mouth, Hongbin spoke up. “Kibum punched_ me _first. I retaliated and Wonshik tried to help me.”_

 _“Regardless of who provoked first, violence is_ not _tolerated in the school.” Principal Park turned his back on them to take out a slip from the cabinet behind him. Slamming the drawer shut, he placed the paper onto the oak desk and slid it across. Hongbin’s blood turned hot at the words_ ‘Misdemeanor Admittance’ _at the top of the paper_.

_“With all due respect, sir, I'd rather you expel me.” Hongbin nearly spat at the sight of it._

_Principal Park’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t be so cocky. That would go on your permanent record.”_

_He looked up, rage simmering. “As if this won’t?”_

_“You can't expel him for defending himself!” Wonshik protested beside him, stifling his winces, which irked Hongbin even more to see his friend hurt._

_“Violence is not the solution, Hongbin.”_

_“Tell that to Kibum.” He snarled._

_Sensing a challenge, Principal Park furrowed his brows even more, the vein in the middle of his forehead almost bursting with effort. “Expelling you will undoubtedly make your admittance to other schools more difficult.”_

_“Proof that school’s justice under your administration is a failure, sir.”_

_It was like a pin dropped in the middle of the room. Wonshik was trying to stifle the choked sounds of his shock, Hakyeon looked like he couldn't believe he was alive listening to what was unfolding before him and Principal Park looked unimpressed but Hongbin caught the indignant spark in his eyes as if he wanted nothing more than to strike Hongbin for such insolence._

_“False bravado will make you delusional, Lee Hongbin.”_

_“Not anymore different than your position, sir.” He didn’t care at this point._

_The school year was almost over and he was so_ done _with it all. The purple rage in the Principal’s face was almost entertaining to look at but Hongbin waited, wondering how badly this could spiral._

 _“Get out of my sight.” He snarled. “Anyone who_ clearly _has a problem with my authority in this school should leave.”_

_Sensing that it was his cue, Hongbin mockingly did a bow and retreated back to his chair, grabbing his backpack and putting it on, ready to depart for good until…_

_“What are you doing, Kim Wonshik?”_

_Everyone whipped their heads at the young lad’s direction, seeing him taking his backpack too like he was made to follow Hongbin. Hakyeon looked downright frightened at what Wonshik might say when he looked at the principal, confused._

_“I...believed that whoever did not like your way of authority was ordered to leave.”_

_The pulsing vein in the principal’s head was straining against the leather skin of his forehead, Hongbin was afraid it would really burst._

_“I mean, sir, you're punishing the one who got bullied instead of the bullies.” Wonshik added, matter-of-factly._

_The tension was palpable and suffocating like waiting for something to explode immediately. Hongbin nearly held his breath, waiting for hell to rain over them right then._

_“I've had enough of this! If you want to follow him, fine! You're expelled as well, Wonshik! I will not have any of you delusional youngsters think you can simply talk like that to me.”_

_From where he stood, Hongbin saw Hakyeon’s brows shoot up and he saw a storm of rage brewing behind his eyes as if he can't believe the middle aged man’s audacity. He quickly gripped Hakyeon by the wrist, a rare gesture of touch that startled Hakyeon out of his reverie. When their eyes met, Hongbin gave the tiniest of shakes with his head:_ no.

_It was bad enough that Wonshik got involved. He didn’t want Hakyeon to be swept along in the mess._

_“Out! Out! Everyone, out!”_

_._

_._

_._

**_Hey, are you ready? ;)_ **

Hakyeon knew he was being bold to texting a wink face but he figured there was no point on holding back at this point, not when he's waiting in the car park behind the medicine faculty. Besides, hesitation was not in his dictionary . . . and he had a certain fondness for the word ‘fearless’ (although he knew Hongbin and Wonshik would slap his head with a thesaurus and tell him to look up the word ‘shameless’ instead).

He leaned against the door of his car, contemplating if he should walk up to her floor . . . perhaps it was probably more chivalrous? Before he could decide, his phone buzzed in his pocket and he slid his passcode pattern, reading the reply appearing on the screen:

**‘almost. my lab partner was a little clumsy earlier and now i gotta help him clean up the mess…’**

**_‘...how bad is it?_ **

**‘quite bad… im sorry i’ll come down soon.. (╯3╰)’**

He wasn't going to deny that it wasn't aggravating that she's not able to come down because of her damn lab partner. What was up with the guy anyway? Was he _that_ helpless? Biting his lip, unsure whether this was the time for petulance, he contemplated his options. He really could wait down here in the cool evening air . . . but his butt was starting to become sore from sitting too long.

He merely texted a reply:

**_‘(╯_╰)’_ **

**‘...sorry...he just gets extra nervous on his own.’**

**_‘So...you have to baby him?’_ **

Okay, that was perhaps a bit much but at least he was being honest. That was good though, right?

**‘well, he is kiiiiiinda like an overgrown puppy…’**

Now he was definitely curious. It was probably good to find out what her lab partner looked like; that way Hakyeon could size the guy up.

**_‘Can I come up?’_ **

**‘sure (:’**

With that, he pocketed his phone and locked his car before walking the way up. He remembered she told him that her lab was on the third floor and even though he was kinda excited for this date, he did perhaps have a bone to pick with her lab partner.

Was he really _that_ helpless?

The lab wasn't too difficult to locate, although he thought ascending the stairs shouldn't have been that lethargic. He probably needed to hit the gym soon. He walked up to a door, thinking that he should just wing it and see if it was the correct one. Before he could reach for the chrome latch, the door panel abruptly swung open and he barely dodged the sudden slam to his face.

“Ah, I'm so sorry!” the young man squeaked.

Stumbling slightly, Hakyeon took a moment to recollect himself.

“Its okay.” He waved it off nonchalantly

He took a good look at the fidgety man at the door. The first thing that drew Hakyeon's attention were the young man’s wide eyes, twinkling and bright, crinkled with concern. He thought he'd never see someone with a cuter nose than Sanghyuk but this guy’s slender and sharp nose was intriguing. His lips made Hakyeon’s brows raise immediately because they were very plump.

“Oh, Hakyeon-oppa!”

He blinked in surprise when Hana emerged from behind the tall man.

“Hey.” he smiled instinctively at her.

Instantly, the young man looked between the two of them, eyes shifting from her to Hakyeon and suddenly, a look of realization dawned upon him.

“He's your date.” he tilted his head towards Hana, almost apologetically.

Suddenly, Hakyeon was able to put two and two together.

“You're her lab partner.” He concluded.

Her lab partner stood straighter to his full height, in his pale lab coat, dark sweater and dark skinny jeans, and it miffed Hakyeon that this guy was slightly taller than him. He even smelled nice for someone who was clumsy.

“Hakyeon, this is Jaehwan.” She walked up to stand beside him, introducing with a polite gesture. “Jaehwan, this is Hakyeon.”

They nodded at each other and Hakyeon fought an urge to whine at how unfair this was: he'd wanted to get mad at Hana’s illusive lab partner for keeping her occupied when he wanted to spend time with her . . . he hadn't expected her partner to be an absolute cutie.

“Ready to go?” he turned to her.

He hadn't meant to glare, truly he hadn't, but when he sneaked a glance at Jaehwan, the young man blushed to the tips as if he was scolded and Hana chuckled, gently gripping his forearm over the sleeve. If he had seen Jaehwan elsewhere as a stranger, he'd really would've thought the flush was rather adorable.

“Yes, I am.” She tugged at his sleeve.

“Thanks for the help, Hana.” Jaehwan absently scratched behind his ear and Hakyeon was intrigued to notice Jaehwan had elvish ears. “Sorry I kept you too long.”

“Hope it'll not be always.” Hakyeon let slipped, goodnaturedly.

Jaehwan blushed harder, which made Hana chuckle. “Don't be mean,” she reprimanded. “Make sure to be careful when handling the acids in the vials. We can't afford to break more of those...or accidentally corroding through the workstations.”

Jaehwan blushed harder and Hakyeon bit back a chuckle. Hana clutched her folded lab coat, fixing her hair absentmindedly. He offered an arm, which she looped hers around his easily.

“See you, Jaehwan.” She waved goodbye.

Thanks.” He waved back and instantly, Hakyeon understood what she meant that Jaehwan was an overgrown puppy.

They left the lab together, descending down the stairs towards his car. As they reached the fire door at the exit, he held it open for her.

“He was cute.” He noted as the cool air hit them.

“Are you jealous?” She smirked, walking out, her hair curling elegantly with the wind’s caresses. “I’d rather you not, particularly when I’ll be with you the whole evening.”

Hakyeon fought the urge to blush. “It was just a thought.”

“He’s cute.” She shrugged, smoothing out the lapels of his jacket. “But you’re cuter.”

That was enough to mollify him. He held the passenger door open for her, which earned him a pretty smile. He climbed into the driver’s seat, igniting the engine before he drove them out of the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes!  
> we finally got to meet Jaehwan~  
> don't worry, Taekwoon will reappear again! the next chapter will be a treat, i promise :3 (although its been taking a while to get it finished)  
> tbh chapter 5 was proving to be a lil more difficult to write, hence why i took so long to update this story  
>  ~~(i like writing chapters in advance before i update them hahaha) ~~~~~~  
> hopefully i'll get back on track with the writing! thank you for reading this far <3


	6. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some ghosts should stay buried but Hongbin figures the past likes to crash the party of the present like a hot drunk mess, whining about their cheating partner: the future.

**.**

**.**

**.**

 

 **. five .** ****  


_‘If I could fall into the sky,_

_Do you think time would pass me by?_

_‘Cause you know I’d walk a thousand miles,_

_If I could just to see you . . . tonight.’_

  


— Vanessa Carlton, ‘A Thousand Miles'

.

_“He had you expelled, Hongbin.”_

_Hakyeon was seething, pacing around in his bedroom. Wonshik was lying down on Hakyeon’s bed, careful not to put pressure on his purple cheek but was visibly dozing off, curled up around a soft bolster. Hongbin sat in the chair opposite Hakyeon's study desk, clutching a mug of hot chocolate that Hakyeon’s mother had made for them; he quite liked it because it soothed his nerves. Wonshik’s mug was already empty while Hakyeon’s was cold, untouched._

_“I can’t believe that asshole, I swear I’m gonna—,”_

_“Hyung.” Hongbin calmly interrupted._

_After the unfortunate incident in the principal’s office, they'd gone back to Hakyeon’s house. Hongbin wasn't eager to face his parents’ reaction and the few hours of reprieve was enough._

_Although, he supposed Hakyeon’s mother already warned their parents by now. He recalled the shock on her face, seeing her youngest son bringing back his two bloodied friends._

_“It's fine.” He concluded, fatigued._

_It stunned Hakyeon. “Hongb—,”_

_“The school year is nearly over, hyung.” The fight in him from earlier had subdued. “I'm tired... Besides, I'm not returning to that hellhole. I've already started applying to other schools nearby for the next year.”_

_“Hongbin…” Hakyeon gave his good shoulder a gentle squeeze._

_“I'm just sad that Wonshik’s got dragged into it. They should've left him alone considering he's Class President.” He took a sip, sombrely. “That would on his record, that's no good.”_

_“...why did you stop me from questioning Principal Park?” Hakyeon asked solemnly._

_“Hyung, I believe at this point, I can be considered a bad luck charm.”_

_Hakyeon's lips were pursed, obviously struggling to stifle his protests because he knew Hongbin would cut him off. It brought sadness to the curl of his own smile._

_“I don't think it would’ve been a good idea for you to be undermining his authority as well, hyung...especially not after me.” Hongbin reasoned. “You’re gonna be valedictorian, you're Head Boy. Unlike me, you'd be risking more if you prickled his ego and he would've had your positions stripped from records just because he could. You saw how petty he was!”_

_“Hongbin…”_

_He looked away, not wanting to see the sympathy. He was tired of seeing it. He didn't want to be seen as weak . . . not after what he'd done. For once, he was ready to feel less pathetic._

_“I don’t want you getting involved, hyung. I'll be fine. Don't worry about me.”_

Knock! Knock!

_“Boys....”_

_Their heads swivelled to Hakyeon's mother, a slight woman with a kind smile, standing at the door. “Are you boys hungry?”_

_“Food?” Wonshik sat up abruptly._

_Hakyeon snatched a pillow and hit the younger squarely in the face. Hongbin laughed as Wonshik squawked, falling back onto the bed._

_“Go back to sleep.” Hakyeon deadpanned._

_“Hakyeon…” she reprimanded him with fond exasperation. “Food will be ready in ten minutes. You boys better...clean up before coming down to eat.”_

_Hongbin had a vague sense she was referring to the dried blood still clinging onto them. It was a good thing he had brought his spare P.E. clothes. Wonshik did not so . . . chances were he'd have to borrow Hakyeon’s clothes for today._

_“Binnie…” Hakyeon continued after the door click shut behind his mother. “I know you don't want me to worry but we're still gonna give that old geezer hell for what he did.”_

_“It's not worth it.” Hongbin sighed. “Hyung…”_

_He looked up to see tears already welling in Hakyeon’s eyes and he deflated. He had hoped Hakyeon didn't feel like it was his constant responsibility to save Wonshik and Hongbin whenever they got in trouble . . ._

_Hakyeon sniffled. “How can you be still thinking of_ my _wellbeing or Wonshik’s like that?”_

_He gestured at Hongbin’s bruises as if they were evident enough. He caught the sight of Wonshik sitting up, scooting to the edge of the bed, beside where Hakyeon stood. They both looked at him and he nearly flinched under their combined gazes._

_Hongbin smiled wryly. “Out of the three of us, it’ll be the best if you are the one that has a levelled head, hyung.”_

_In a blink of an eye, Hakyeon tackled Hongbin hard into a hug, making the younger cry out in pain._

_“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Hakyeon rambled garbled apologies as his tears flowed down his face. He hugged Hongbin harder and Wonshik just smiled silently, unmoving from the bed, clutching the bruised side of his ribs._

_What an end to a hell of year, Hongbin thought._

_._

_._

_._

Barely twenty minutes in waiting for the soccer game to start and Hongbin was already beginning to feel the first strains of a headache.

The noise from the stands was thunderous even as the speaker’s voice was commentating (‘we have deliciously cheap corn dogs at the stall near the entrance! Get them while they're still hot!’) and letting everyone know the match was going to start soon. He was at the front row, where he sat with Hakyeon, who was obviously fidgeting nervously, eyes looking around.

“I can't believe you bribed me to come here.” He scowled at the older while clutching a greasy hamburger that was too good to resist.

“I didn't bribe you.” Hakyeon made a face at him before licking the mustard sauce off his fingers.

Hongbin glared, holding up the incriminating evidence: the burger he was eating, which Hakyeon bought.

Hakyeon swiped his hand away. “Oh hush, you know Wonshik would've whine about it for weeks if we didn't show up.”

“That crybaby.” Hongbin said before taking a bite.

Hakyeon hit his head with the empty corndog container.

“Be nice to your brother.”

“Yes, mom.” Hongbin rubbed the sore spot on his head.

Hakyeon gave his signature stank face. Then, his eyes flitted at something. “Oh, here they are!”

He thought Hakyeon meant Wonshik’s team finally appeared on the field. However, he saw Hana approaching them with a big smile . . . followed by a few people. Hongbin recognized Sejeong and Mina but there was a tall unfamiliar guy with them. He seemed bashful while the girls walked down the bleachers to join them, all carrying their own food and drinks.

“Who's the elf?” He whispered as lowly as he could to Hakyeon.

“Her lab partner.” He said through a gritted smile.

“The cockblock?” Hongbin raised his brows.

“Potentially.” Hakyeon shrugged. “I don't know if he's interested in her but I'm about to find out.”

Hongbin backed away, trying not to let his amusement show. This was going to be something to behold; Hakyeon rarely found himself with competition in his dating life and to see this man joining them _with Hakyeon's date_ was bringing up some questions.

“Hello, Hongbin!” Hana grinned, patting his shoulder goodnaturedly. “Glad you could join us.”

“Wish I could say the same.” Hongbin smirked before glaring sideways at Hakyeon, who pinched his side in response with a tight smile. He yelped in pain, making all of them laugh.

“You dragged him here?” Hana raised a brow at the cheeky Hakyeon.

“The Bean needs sunlight.” Hakyeon answered airily and Hongbin wanted to smack the smug smile off his face. “Besides, Wonshik would've been a big baby about it.”

“Yeah…” Hongbin pocketed his hands, mock-teasing. “He would've cried about it.”

“He cries?” Mina bit back an amused smile.

“A lot.” Hakyeon chimed.

“Constantly.” Hongbin supplied.

“Frequently.”

“I heard that, you assholes.”

The rest of the group burst into laughter when Wonshik appeared, looking utterly unimpressed, clad in his sports jersey, shorts and sneakers.

“I hope y'all are ready to cry for us when we win tonight.” Wonshik huffed petulantly.

“Aw, are you nervous, baby?” Hakyeon cooed.

“I will hurt you, hyung.” Wonshik threatened although between the three of them, they _knew_ there was no real bite in his tone.

Hakyeon pinched the younger’s cheek in a fit of cute aggression and Wonshik was about to swat his hand away when the tall man with the slightly elvish ears spoke. “You could afford to be nervous, dude. The Tigers have a good captain.”

“Oh, I forgot to introduce you!” Hakyeon piped in a way that suggested to Hongbin and Wonshik it was somewhat intentional.

Stifling their smiles (Hongbin hiding it behind a clenched fist and Wonshik by glancing over his shoulder in a show to check on his team), Hakyeon gestured at the tall man in question.

“This is Jaehwan…” He introduced.

Hongbin took in the dainty shape of his ears, the pretty slope of his nose with plump lips, wondering vacantly if this man was going to be Hakyeon's competition for Hana. That would be . . . something to witness, he wondered to himself.

“You guys have already met the girls.” Hakyeon looped his arms around Wonshik's and Hongbin's necks and they both groaned instantly at this classic display of Hakyeon™ Koala Tendencies. “This is Hongbin, my junior and Wonshik, also my junior and captain of The Wolves.”

“Oh, you're Taekwoon's opponent.” Jaehwan grinned, gesturing with his cup.

“Who's Taekwoon?” Hongbin asked.

Before Jaehwan could reply, there was a row of noise and cheering that almost startled them. The corner of Jaehwan's lip curled as his gaze was fixed on something over all of their shoulders. “ _That's_ Taekwoon.”

As soon as they turned around, Hongbin had to blink twice.

Across the field, the blinding pink hair wasn't hard to miss among the masses of black. The young man shook his pink hair out of his face, had an arm looped around a bulkier built man with pale hair, cheeks rounded from smiling too hard as the cheers grew louder. The contrasting colors of yellow and black of their jerseys rippled. When he turned around at the call of one of his teammates, Hongbin could clearly read the initials on the back of the fabric: _Jung Taekwoon_ over an emblazoned _11._

It was the same guy from the park.

“You know him?” Hakyeon's voice cut through his stupor.

Hongbin half-expected Hakyeon to mention the hair until his brain recalled they _all_ couldn't see the pink as he was seeing. It must've looked pale to them.

Hongbin tore his eyes away from Taekwoon just in time to see the growing smile on Jaehwan's face. “Yeah, he was my captain.”

The shock was evident of all of their faces.

“You...played soccer?” Hana blinked at him in awe.

Suddenly, Jaehwan blushed pink. Hongbin didn't miss the tiniest grimace on Hakyeon's face at Hana's cooing reaction. “Yeah, kinda. I got to play a few matches before I transferred here.”

“Wow.” Wonshik shook his head. “What a small world…”

 _‘No shit.’_ Hongbin thought to himself. His mind quickly wandered back to the few days ago where he'd seen Taekwoon at the park, approaching him with the cat food. He gave himself an internal shake, trying to steer his thoughts away. He still cannot get over of how a walking _beacon_ of color Taekwoon was.

They took a short time to idle about and he saw groups of girls huddled over at the opponent's side, near Taekwoon. They all cheered, waving enthusiastically, when he turned to them, waving back.

“And that's his fanclub.” Jaehwan pointed out.

“He has a fanclub?” Wonshik's brows shot up to his hair.

“Yes...he's fairly popular.”

“Hyung!” A new voice interrupted

They all turned. Sanghyuk appeared, jogging up to the bleachers while wearing the same jersey as Wonshik's (gold letterings on navy fabric).

“Oh, hello, Sanghyuk!” Sejeong greeted him when he reached them.

Hongbin didn't mean to but his eyes glanced to Hakyeon, ready to cringe in case the elder was going to leer between him and Sanghyuk. To his surprise, Hakyeon pursed his lips as though he seemed . . . uneasy. However, when he glanced to Wonshik, his roommate looked smug.

“Hyuk-ah, meet Jaehwan.” Wonshik patted the tall junior's back. Sanghyuk bowed slightly while Jaehwan only smiled with a nod. “You've met the girls...and Hongbin.”

Hongbin was thankful Sanghyuk didn't turn to see at the suggestive expression on Wonshik's face. When they smiled politely at each other, it was mildly awkward but Hakyeon suddenly clapped his hands excitedly.  

“You guys are about to play now!” He gestured at the referee emerging on the field.

They all looked towards Wonshik and Sanghyuk, the latter looking nervous while the former seemed determined with an impish glint in his eyes. They all wished the two of them good luck before watching them hop off to the bleachers and the buzz of the game starting hummed loudly around them.

“Uh oh, Wonshikkie has his game face on.” Hakyeon chuckled.

“Are you sure that wasn't a look of constipation?” Hongbin's dry tone made the girls chuckle.

“Hong _bin…”_

“Break a leg, Wonshik!”

As they get settled onto the bleachers, Hongbin couldn't help but let his eyes be drawn to Taekwoon. He knew that the others probably couldn't see what he saw but it was difficult not to notice the captain jogging up to the centre of the field. He greeted Wonshik with a nod of his head and the two captains shook hands in the middle of the field with the referee as witness.

Soon, the whistle was blown and all they could do was watch.

_._

_._

_._

_“We did it!!”_

_Eighteen-year-old Hongbin hooted, legs dangling on the edge of the parapet wall as his shout rang across the night sky, wind blowing in his hair. Wonshik cracked open some cans of cola (and a beer one for Hakyeon) and they sipped their drinks quietly on the rooftop._

_The school year was over._

_“You certainly stayed out of trouble ever since transferring.” Hakyeon remarked with a proud smile, patting Hongbin's head affectionately._

_“What am I, chopped liver?” Wonshik's cheeks looked too suspiciously red to be from the cola. “I get no love?”_

_“Aigoo, you big softie.” When he reached out to pat Wonshik's head, the younger snatched the bottle of beer out of his hand and took a long sip._

_Realization dawned upon Hongbin that the beer was perhaps the cause of the color on Wonshik's cheeks. He was probably a lightweight. Before he could down it all, Hakyeon took the can back and smacked Wonshik on the upside of the head._

_“Ow!”_

_“You punk, don't go drinking my beer as freely as you want.” Hakyeon scolded but not without smoothing out the same spot with a gentle hand._

_Wonshik mewled indignantly but leaned into the touch nonetheless. Hongbin laughed at the sight, heart and cheeks warming in the cool night breeze. The smell of rain was still heavy on the roof pavement along with alluring scent of the hot chicken wings Hakyeon bought specially for this occasion._

_All the three of them could hear was the distant hum of traffic nearby and Wonshik's light humming to a song only he knew._

_“Congratulations on graduating.” Hakyeon grinned, looping both arms around them and squeezing them into a hug. “You brats are finally out!”_

_For once, they didn't fight his hugs or made teasing grossed-out faces. They just let him cling onto them for a while. Pulling away, Hongbin started to reach for the box of chicken wings, peeling off the lid to start eating._

_“So what's next?” Hakyeon quirked an amused brow as he picked up a piece of chicken thigh._

_“Road trip!” Hongbin hollered excitedly, holding up a drumstick._

_“Road trip! Road trip!” Wonshik chanted along._

_Hakyeon's laughs were drowned as Wonshik and Hongbin clambered off the parapet wall to hook arms around each other and skipped in silly circles, hooting while brandishing their chicken. This was something they have been talking for weeks before they all careened into their finals. Hakyeon had taken a gap year after his own graduation and was only about to complete his first year in university, which meant Wonshik and Hongbin has been trying to rope him into the road trip with them for months._

_“You can't bail out on the plan!” Hongbin poked Hakyeon's cheek accusingly. “We've been talking about it for months!”_

_“I never bailed on our plans!” Hakyeon gasped. “Such lies!”_

_“There was that one time you did last year where you left me stranded at the train station.” Wonshik pouted, looking like a ridiculously wounded puppy. “The trip where we went to Jeju Island.”_

_“That was because you only gave me twenty minutes notice and I was in the middle of a seminar.” Hakyeon glared, giving the younger a slice to the neck with his hand. “I couldn't just walk out because my junior fell asleep on the train and got off at the wrong exit!”_

_“I was travelling since 2 am!” Wonshik cried, massaging his neck._

_“Yes but I did pick you up two hours after that!”_

_It was one of those spontaneous trips they decided to make in the middle of night when misery was like an insistent leech that didn't know how to let go and could only be removed by the company of friends. Wonshik was the one who decided to visit Hakyeon that very night, hours before Hongbin tagged along the next morning by bus._

_That had been a tiring but fun weekend._

_“We should do something like that again!” Hongbin cheered._

_“God, no.” Hakyeon groaned._

_“Hell, yes!” Wonshik whooped._

_They hooked arms again, leaping in circles that made Hakyeon laugh harder._

_All of a sudden, there was a loud ringing coming from his bag that laid next to theirs on the floor. Hakyeon got up, staggering slightly that made both of them snigger, before he rummaged through his bag. He found his phone, buzzing, and flipped it open to answer._

_“Hello?”_

_Deciding that this was a good time to enjoy the food more, Hongbin and Wonshik ate their chicken quietly. He brought it between him and Wonshik as they made quick work, ripping the lid off to use as makeshift plates as they took out the pieces._

_Hongbin licked the honey barbeque sauce from his fingers before his eyes flitted back to Hakyeon who'd scooted away, an unexpectant deep furrow upon his brows._

_“Wait. Mom?” Hakyeon's voice was carried by the wind. “Mom, slow down, I can't hear you...what's happened?”_

_They both waited, licking their fingers as they watched Hakyeon._

_However, the more time went on; seeing Hakyeon standing, unmoving, with the phone still to his ear; the more it became clear to both of them that something wasn't right. In a matter of seconds, Hakyeon paled; the color drained from his cheeks and his hands were shaking. They both shared a concerned look, a silent question of ‘_ should we ask?’ _as the joy from earlier slipped away like dust to the wind._

_After some time, Hakyeon didn't even end his call… his hand drooped as if the phone suddenly weighed immensely. Slowly, Hakyeon turned to them but his eyes were unseeing, glassy, and it made their stomachs twist like ice was dropped into their guts._

_“Hyung?” Wonshik reached out a hand, hesitant, as if a sudden touch might spook him._

_“I...uh…”_

_There was a rare wild look in his eyes, it was unfathomable. For a moment, it looked like panic, then it morphed into horror as though Hakyeon had a notion to run._

_“Hakyeon… talk to us.” Hongbin got up too._

_“I…have to go.” Hakyeon choked on his words. “I… I'm sorry…”_

_Instantly, they went to him. Hongbin gripped Hakyeon's hands firmly and he gasped to find them trembling. His grip tightened, hoping it'd anchor Hakyeon back from where his mind was racing to escape._

_“Hyung.” The shattered look in his eyes chilled Hongbin and Wonshik to the bone. “Hyung, what happened? Tell us...please.”_

_“Hongbin…” Hakyeon's voice sounded frail like glass._

_“Hyung…” Wonshik whispered, giving his shoulder to squeeze as if to say_ we're here. _“Hyung...just… what's wrong?”_

_In a blink, whatever turmoil that was haunting Hakyeon, sent him crumbling to his knees. Crying out his name in surprise, they both kneeled to him. Hongbin gripped Hakyeon's hands tighter, he was shaking. His voice broke, struggling to the hideous sobs spilling from his lips._

_“My sister … is dead.”_

_._

_._

_._

“We did it!”

Wonshik hollered as Hakyeon launched himself at the captain, hugging him tightly. They all giggled, the high was infectious as Wonshik hoisted Hakyeon by the waist and swayed on the spot. Hongbin thumped both of them on the backs, laughing when Wonshik’s foot landed wrongly on the concrete curb and they both stumbled.

They all had gone straight to the party venue after the match, a ten-minute drive away from campus in Hakyeon's and Wonshik's cars.

“The last ten minutes were quite intense.” Mina grinned. “Not gonna lie.”

“Thank you, thank you!” Wonshik dropped Hakyeon to his feet before doing little bows. “We owe it to the man of the hour, our very own Han Sanghyuk!”

“Oh hush, hyung.” He chuckled. “It was good teamwork, now let's head to the party!”

“Amen!” Jaehwan pumped his fist in the air.

The match had been fun. Now, all they were interested was the rumored party after the match. Following behind Wonshik, they walked down the streets, moon beaming high above their heads, buzzing with excitement.

Sanghyuk trailed behind slightly, his bones ringing with satisfaction and fatigue. However, his mind was still spinning over what Hakyeon told him a few days ago.

_“Well, Hongbin’s a special case. He doesn’t know who his soulmate is.”_

Truthfully, he was still skeptical about sharing the secret of his abilities to Hakyeon . . . he guessed the elder kept his promise because so far, no one has treated him differently. Seers weren't very well-liked by people; many deemed them to be akin of gypsies or fortune tellers. Bad people who disguised their so-called talents as a means to exploit the desperate and the lonely; uncaring and greedy for money.

When his parents first found out he'd been Gifted too, they told him to keep it as a secret as they have always did for generations. He knew he probably shouldn't have revealed his secret to Hakyeon but even so . . . he wanted it to be clear on his conscience that he was never going to use his talents to exploit others.

Still, it never hurt to be careful.

"Well, this is it." Wonshik grinned, gesturing at the building not too far from where they parked earlier.  
  
It was an apartment building . . . sort of. It looked almost in shambles with the peeling paint and faded brick faces.

“You sure it's here?” Hakyeon asked skeptically.

However, as they stepped closer, they saw bright lights shining from somewhere in the basement.  
  
"It's a...bar?" he guessed.   
  
"Well, it's more of a lounge." Sanghyuk explained, running a hand through his updo, one that Wonshik forced him to style. "You'll love it when you see it."   
  
Wonshik led them all around a bend, where steps descended down into the lounge. There was a half-submerged entry with a bouncer that took up most of the doorway. When he saw Wonshik, he cracked a small smile and let them in.   
  
As soon as they stepped inside, there was a moment of pause.   
  
"Whoa."   
  
The interior was a complete contrast to the outside, it was all dark marble tiled floors with wooden accents but that was the only thing that looked expensive. There were rows of comfy booth to one side of the wall where Sanghyuk could see some of his teammates and their circle of friends already celebrating with drinks. The lights were dim but the spotlights reflecting on the surprisingly high ceiling were a spectacle. In the corner was a makeshift dance floor, a DJ booth already thumping out hardcore bass with people already swaying.   
  
"Neat place, huh?" Wonshik grinned. "Looks exclusive but its easy on the wallet, being sort of underground and all. The owner was a graduate when he opened this place—oh, there he is! Hey, Eunkwang-hyung!"   
  
A young man with a big smile came up to Wonshik but no one seemed interested in making introductions. The girls looked interested at a foosball table somewhere in the back. Jaehwan got pulled aside and hugged by some of his old teammates. Hakyeon was tugging Hana towards the dancefloor, which left Sanghyuk with Wonshik and Hongbin.   
  
"Shots are at the bar, gentlemen!" Eunkwang's eyes glinted merrily. “We've got some food too if you'd like. Chicken wings, fish sticks…”   
  
"Thanks for letting us book the bar!" Wonshik raised his voice as the music grew louder   
  
"Consider it my treat for kicking the Tigers' asses!"   
  
"Hey!”   
  
Himchan suddenly appeared, indignant but extremely rosy in the cheeks. He was no longer in his soccer uniform too, merely in ripped jeans and a plain T-shirt. He stumbled slightly, which made Eunkwang laugh before he caught him easily.   
  
"We would've won if y'all didn't play foul!" Himchan slurred.   
  
Wonshik doubled in laughter. "How was it foul? Just because we got a new rising star on the team?"   
  
Sanghyuk turned red when Wonshik reeled him into view by the elbow. He saw Hongbin stifled a giggle at his obvious discomfort.   
  
"Wait till we bring in Zelo next semester!"   
  
"Himchannie..."   
  
Jung Taekwoon walked in and Sanghyuk tried not to blink in surprise. His blinding pink hair was combed back, exposing the elegant yet sharp lines of his face, lips tinted red while wearing a white shirt, green cardigan and maroon pants . . . a stark contrast to how he'd looked sweaty on the field earlier.

 _‘Interesting,’_ he decided curiously.

He knew, from playing on the field earlier, that Taekwoon was also touched by color but his style was such a jarring contrast to . . . well, everyone. He stood out so brightly amongst everyone else's dark and pale attire. Sanghyuk tried not to stare at Hongbin's reaction, who was wide-eyed with silent shock.

At least he wasn't the only one that felt like he was smacked across the face by a rainbow baton that was Jung Taekwoon.   
  
"We're all good sportsmen here." The captain grinned. “Good match, Wonshik.”

Wonshik laughed. “Taekwoon-hyung.”  
  
They both leaned in for a bro hug, patting each other on the back. Before Taekwon pulled away, Sanghyuk saw his eyes flitted and landed on Hongbin. The young man hadn't seen the captain look at him, still glancing around the lights at the ceiling, oblivious.   
  
_‘Oh…’_ Okay, now he was utterly intrigued. Did these two know each other?   
  
"Cheers, lads!" Eunkwang patted both captains gleefully on the backs.   
  
Taekwoon looked away too but with a small smile lingering on his lips before Eunkwang ushered them to the back. ‘Definitely interesting.’ They followed after Eunkwang, and Sanghyuk was already familiar with the astonishingly spacious layout. They had a table where a group of people were playing a loud round of jenga blocks and a karaoke machine.

As they came to stand in the pathway, he saw Taekwoon being tugged by Himchan towards the bar. Curiously, he noted the way the captain's gaze flickered back to Hongbin when the younger wasn't looking.

 _‘Oh...’_ A mischievous smile curled on his lips.

“Wow…” Hongbin whistled. “How the hell did they manage to fit all this stuff in here?”

“The question is not ‘how', my dear Binnie.” Wonshik gestured at everything dramatically. “The question is which one are we going for first?”

“Uh, the bar...duh.” Sanghyuk said as if it was obvious.

Hongbin smacked Wonshik hard in the stomach. “Keys.” He demanded.

“Actually,” Sanghyuk interrupted with a slightly raised finger. “Give the keys to me.”

“Wait, what?” Hongbin blinked.

“You're doing shots with me, Hongbin!” Wonshik whooped, squeezing his arm before he made an eager beeline to the bar.

“Sanghyuk, what are you…?”

He smiled lopsidedly. “I don't really feel like drinking. Just wanna lay low, probably play some foosball with the girls.”

“O...kay.” Hongbin wasn't sure what to make of this.

“Also, Hongbin-hyung…” Sanghyuk gestured with a tilt of his head, at the direction of Hongbin's six. “I could be wrong but I'm pretty sure _he_ wants to buy you a drink.”

“Who?”

He was about to gesture at Taekwoon but the captain wasn't looking their way and he guessed that for now, he was just gonna let loose after a good game. Patting Hongbin on the back, he took Wonshik's car keys and headed for the foosball table, leaving the older to stare at him in confusion.

.

.

.

“Bartender, one more glass!” Hongbin called out, already tipsy and swaying on his hand that it made Wonshik double over, laughing. His cheeks felt warm as the music thumped in his ears, a strange fluttering brewing in his tummy.

 _‘I need more.’_ Hongbin thought, fleetingly, before the bartender placed a shot glass of tequila in front of him.

“One shot!” Wonshik cheered.

Without another thought, Hongbin downed it. The taste scorched the back of his throat, alighting his blood and setting it on fire. Exhilaration coursed through his veins as he set the glass down, head spinning in a myriad of sensation of music pounding and a buzz revving his blood.

“One more.”

The bartender poured another shot and Wonshik looked incredibly stunned as if he was seeing Hongbin for the first time. Hongbin couldn't blame his roommate for it because he rarely drank but when he did, he had an unbelievable tolerance for it.

“Two shots!” Wonshik hollered, pumping his fist.

Again, Hongbin tipped the drink back and chugged it down like a champ. The taste was practically a blinding white-hot flame but it made him giddy. Giggling, he put it down and he swayed a little as cheers erupted.

He wasn't sure who else was playing the drinking game with him but he knew Wonshik was out of it, having drunk less than Hongbin but already cherry red in the face. He tried to recall what happened earlier; he remembered Sanghyuk leaving, him and Wonshik toasting to a few drinks, then . . . Eunkwang joining them afterwards. He'd dragged Himchan along, then eventually the rest of the team.

Introductions were fuzzy but they decided to save it later when Eunkwang made the bartender pull out shot glasses and prompted Free Flow Hour _._

“Last five minutes for Free Flow!” The bartender boomed.

There were a few whines. Hongbin glanced around, amused that everyone was at various stages of drunk. He leaned back against the bar, taking in the sight of the bar, seeing the vague top of Hakyeon's head, smiling down at Hana from where they were still attached to the hip at the dancefloor.

He noticed Sanghyuk laughing with the girls, sitting on one of the plush armchair. Wonshik was swaying, laughing at something Eunkwang whispered to him and Himchan. He relaxed in his stance, wondering when the last time he had this much fun on a weekend with friends.

“Last one?”

He recognized that voice.

It took him a while to turn to that delicate sound but when he did, Taekwoon looked as hammered as he felt. His hair was slightly disheveled and he had a pretty red flush to his face that was definitely from the alcohol. In his hands, he had two shot glasses.

“Cheers!” He grinned, taking one of the glasses.

He knocked back the glass, drinking the hard liquor and saw Taekwoon did the same with his drink, grimacing slightly at the taste.

“Thanks.” He said, smiling, putting the glass down on the bar.

“Anytime.” Taekwoon grinned back. “Hi, I'm Taekwoon.”

“I know. You're the captain.”

“...and you're the photographer from the park.”

He blinked, briefly stunned. “Oh, you remembered.”

“It's the dimples.” Taekwoon winked, which Hongbin felt made the ground shift. “Also, my cat at the park did seem to really like you a lot.”

“Oh, which one?” Hongbin tilted his side. “The white one?”

Taekwoon nodded. “Yeah, I named him Snowy.”

“He's yours?”

“Not really. I can't adopt him.”

“Why not?” Hongbin pouted; he quite liked that cat.

“Pets aren't allowed at my dorm, sadly.” Taekwoon absently rubbed the back of his reddened neck, where Hongbin watched the veins on the back of his hand.

“Boo-hoo!” Hongbin grimaced, tearing his eyes away. “Cats are awesome!”

Taekwoon laughed at that and the sound—the twinkle sound of his delicate laugh—made Hongbin's cheeks warm. _‘It's the alcohol.’_ He reasoned to himself. _‘It's the heat in the bar and the thump of the music.’_ It was also because of the pretty way Taekwoon's eyes crinkle when he smiled at Hongbin _—no_ , Hongbin told himself. _I'm so fucking hammered._

He flashed his smile, complete with dimples. “Oh, yeah, by the way...my name is Hongbin.”

The corner of Taekwoon's lips quirked. “It's a nice surprise to see you again at a game. How do you know Wonshik?”

“I'm his roommate.” Hongbin leaned an elbow over the counter, trying to get comfy. He felt chatty. “...and the only reason I came to the game was because that jerk dragged me.” He gestured offhandedly at Wonshik's direction, who was trying to drink a whole glass of beer in one go with Himchan, very nearly spilling all of it on his shirt.

Taekwoon turned in the barstool, facing Hongbin. “How long have you known him?”

“We've been friends since high school.” Hongbin tilted his head slowly. “I didn't come with just him, there's Hakyeon, Sanghyuk, Mina, Sejeong and Nayoung. There's also Jaehwan...apparently, he knows you too. Does the name ring a bell?”

“He's my junior.” Taekwoon grinned, cheeks curving in a way that Hongbin thought was _cute_. “He used to play for our team but then he got a scholarship to do medicine so he transferred to do that.”

“Oh, so he's smart.” Hongbin pursued his lips, mildly impressed. Hakyeon would probably flip if he knew that . . . that his competition wasn't merely just a cutie with brains; a _recognized_ cutie with brains.

“How do you know Jaehwan?”

Feeling the tickle of amusement, Hongbin beckoned to the captain to lean closer. When the captain was near, Hongbin noticed the little beauty mark under the left eye and whispered with conspiracy. “He's trying to flirt with Hakyeon’s date.”

“Oh?” Taekwoon raised a brow. “Jaehwan?”

“Yes, his lab partner is Hakyeon's date. I'm sensing competition!” He giggled with a dramatic flourish.

“I didn't know he was a dating sort of person.”

“Hmm?” Hongbin hummed curiously.

“He's like an overgrown puppy.” Taekwoon explained, twirling his empty glass between his fingers. “He's a little helpless sometimes so he—,”

“Hongbinnie!”

Wonshik bounded onto Hongbin, wrapping his arms around his roommate's neck. He squawked from the unsuspecting weight.

“I'm hungry!” Wonshik's breath was in his ear.

“Go buy yourself some food.” Hongbin groaned under the weight, patting firmly onto Wonshik's back to get him off. He was heavy. “I'm not your wallet!”

“Daeguni…” Wonshik whined. “Will you buy me food?”

Taekwoon laughed this time, louder than Hongbin has ever heard him, and the sound was wispy. It was kind of adorable—his brain _has_ to stop thinking that. Taekwoon slowly righted the swaying Wonshik to his feet, patting his back. “Sure, you want some chicken wings?”

“Yes! You're the best captain!” Wonshik cheered, turning redder as he pumped his fists in the air. “See, Binnie! He loves me more than you do!”

“Of course.” Hongbin drawled, smirking. “Get off of me, you big ape.”

“Oi, we still got one more round left!” Himchan yelled as he came over and grabbed Wonshik by the elbow. Waddling away, Wonshik let himself by tugged back to the group of guys still drinking with a goofy smile on his face.

“That jerk.” Hongbin snickered.

Taekwoon got up to his feet, eyes twinkling as he asked. “Can I buy you a drink too?”

The meaningful look in his eyes was magnetic, drawing Hongbin into an orbit that spun out of nowhere. It made Hongbin look up at him, unable to fathom how pink hair could look so _ethereal._

Hongbin's cheeks felt warmer and he grinned. “Sure.”

Taekwoon turned, fortunately managing to catch the bartender's eye right away and stumbled a little to order drinks. Hongbin took a moment to stare as the captain turned, giving him a view of his broad back and _—whoa_  Hongbin slapped his cheeks lightly, stopping when his head began to spin a little more. His thoughts were disorientated, he reasoned to himself, through the bass thumping almost pulsing in his veins.

“Here.” Taekwoon placed two drinks before him.

“That's fast.”

“Junsu-hyung is a good friend.” He gestured at the bartender, who was already mixing cocktails without breaking a sweat.

“You really are as popular as they say.” Hongbin noted, swirling the golden liquid in his glass. “I heard you even have a fanclub.”

Taekwoon barely got to raise his drink to his lips—pink and plump, Hongbin noted fleetingly—before a smile curled. “Those are lies.”

“There's no need to be modest.” Hongbin brazenly leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand.

“You shouldn't listen to such blasphemy.” Taekwoon took a sip.

“Judging from how you played on the field, I really don't think it's blasphemy. I think you're cute.”

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he heard a little siren going off _‘good lord stop you're embarrassing yourself STOP’_ but he smiled serenely, indulging in the new flush of color to Taekwoon's cheeks _and_ ears this time. The captain looked at him briefly before ducking his head shyly. It nearly made Hongbin coo.

“You're pretty cute too…” Taekwoon smiled, blushing. “...although I'm sure you know that too.”

“Not really.” He admitted honestly.

“You're kidding.” Taekwoon raised a brow.

“Nope, people don’t usually call me that.” He smiled, shrugging nonchalantly. They usually called him reserved, distant . . . maybe even callous. It was never his intention to be friendly with lots of people anyway.

“Well, that's a shame.”

The smile on Taekwoon’s face was so earnest, so _nice_ that Hongbin was tempted to run to keep up with the racing of his heart. “So what's your major?” he asked, hoping to change the topic.

“I'm studying Music.” Taekwoon took another sip.

“Oh, just like Sanghyuk.”

“I'm in my third year, took a gap year after high school. You?”

“Freshman in architecture.” He took a sip, feeling the burn in his throat. Putting down the glass, he blinked when the room tilted just a little.

“Ah, my condolences.” They both chuckled. “But I saw you taking pictures in the park. I'm guessing you take photography as a minor?”

Hongbin bit back a grimace. He didn't want to talk about photography but he was fascinated by Taekwoon; he'd never met anyone who was matched as young as him. It was also the way he shamelessly clad himself in colors. Such a contrast to how Hongbin resorted to keep quiet about his own touch. It piqued his curiosity, Hongbin admitted. With his bones relaxed and tongue loosened by the alcohol, he had a thought, a comforting one, that whispered _Taekwoon can be a friend._

Hongbin shook his head. “No, just architecture. Photography is more of a personal hobby.”

“It's an odd hobby.”

Hongbin warmed slightly under his thoughtful gaze. It was the usual comment he'd heard but at least Taekwoon had the courtesy to look amused rather than perplexed before he added. “I take photos too.”

Intrigued, Hongbin looked up. “Oh, what sort?”

“Astrophotography.”

“No way! You take photos of the stars?” It was something he'd always wanted to try. “That's really cool! Where do you usually take them?”

Taekwoon leaned his chin gently on the edge of his tall glass. “In the forests. I usually go hiking on certain weekends to get good shots of the Milky Way.”

“I've always wanted to try.” Hongbin admitted with longing. “How often do you go there to take photos?”

“Not often enough.”

“Can I come too?” He pouted for good measure.

Talking to strangers shouldn't feel this easy—it _really_ shouldn’t—but seeing the colors reflected in Taekwoon's luminescent hair, those kind feline eyes and the silly tingle in his own fingertips where Hongbin clutched his drink, was making it difficult to feel ashamed of himself. He wished he was sober to snap out himself out of it but there was another part of him that was defiant.

A small, hesitant smile curled on Taekwoon's lips and Hongbin liked it. “Sure.”

“Really?” His cheeks hurt from smiling.

“Yeah.” Taekwoon nodded. “How about you give me your number and—,”

“Ack!”

 _Crick!_ There was a sound of glass breakinh and they both turned. Wonshik had leaped into Eunkwang's arms, clutching at the older man's neck, who turned purple in the face under the strain while Himchan looked like he was about to vomit.

“‘mgood.” He moaned, green in the face. “My bad. I'll pay for that, Eunkwang, my dude…”

“I didn't do anything!” Wonshik shouted, slurring horribly. “I'll pay for it too!”

“Wonshik!” Eunkwang groaned. “You're really heavy.”

“Uh oh,” Hongbin slowly got up. “Gotta go.”

“Wait.”

He halted. He turned back to Taekwoon, who looked perplexed like he hadn’t meant to blurt. Tilting his head curiously, he regarded the older's gaze calmly.

“You're…” Taekwoon struggled, rubbing his nape nervously with a hand. “...already leaving?”

Hongbin smiled benignly. “Best friend duty calls.”

“I'll see you...soon?” his tone was hopeful.

It shouldn't be endearing but he thought the flush tinting the tips of Taekwoon's ears was breathtaking. Blood coursing through his veins which ignited a spark of boldness, Hongbin flicked the stray pink strands that fell into Taekwoon's eyes. The older man didn't flinch but the look in his eyes changed to something heady that made Hongbin severely tempted to stay.

Hongbin knew that for people who see color, physical contact wasn't that big of a deal but to see Taekwoon's reaction from the close proximity was thrilling, especially he wanted to see if that hair was as soft as it looked.

“See you at the park.” He winked.

The reddening flush blooming on Taekwoon's cheeks almost made him coo. He flashed a grin, the one with dimples before turning on his heel to walk towards Wonshik. He tried not to think too hard about the burn of Taekwoon's gaze behind his head.

“Hongbinnieeee!” Wonshik cooed delightfully.

“Okay, you big oaf.” Hongbin patted him roughly on the back. “Get off of Eunkwang-hyung. The dude looks like he's about to have a hernia.”

Reluctantly, Wonshik let himself be lowered. When he tried to stand, his legs wobbled and Hongbin's hand shot out, gripping him by the upper arm.

“Come on, princess.” He huffed. “Let’s go get Sanghyuk and go back.”

_._

_._

_._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall can find me wilding on [my twitter](https://twitter.com/beanedbybean) because i'm like 99% on caffeine most of the time. 
> 
> btw, give my girl [loveseek630](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveseek630%20rel=) some love, she deserves it for beta-ing my butt.


	7. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even sunflowers have seen cold winters.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**. six .** **  
  
**

_ ‘Well, I know when you're around. _

_ ‘Cause I know the sound,  _

_ I know the sound of your heart.’ _

  


— The 1975, ‘The Sound’

.

  


_ Sixteen-year-old Hongbin stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom, giving his unruly curls a lazy comb with his fingers before he smoothed the lines of his uniform. It wasn't because he felt particularly conscious about his looks today; more like he was amused that the monotony of his new uniform was a perfect cover for his secret of being touched. _

_ The uniform betrayed nothing of his secret and the pseudo-disguise felt like an armour of cotton, which the thought made Hongbin chuckle as something profound washed over him: relief.  _

_ It has been almost a whole year since his expulsion and okay, he didn't want to brag but he thought he grew . . .  okay. out of it. He was slightly taller, his cheeks full again and his skin clear of scratches or bruises. _

_ “Beanie!” he heard his mother calling from downstairs. _

_ He picked up his bag and walked out, descending the stairs and into the living area where he found Wonshik idly picking at the dirt underneath his fingernails, clad in the same monochromatic uniform as he was, spindly limbs stretched on one of the sofas. _

_ “I still don't understand why you had to transfer to the same school as I did.” He noted, eyeing the same school badge upon his breast.  _

_ Wonshik shrugged, absently scratching at the tiny scar on his cheek. “It's easier to enroll there and they have one of the best sports curricula too in the district.” _

_ “Lemme guess... soccer.” _

_ “Yep!” Wonshik grinned as he sat up. “I'm planning to go for the tryouts for the team again this year.” _

_ Hongbin fetched his water bottle from the coffee table. “Just pray you don't get hit by the ball in the nose...again.” _

_ “It was just that  _ one _ time.” Wonshik mumbled, indignantly. _

_ Hongbin snorted, recalling that Wonshik had blacked out last year after the wayward ball smashed into his face when he tried out for the team; that hadn't been a pretty sight, especially with all the blood and Wonshik's deliriousness, blinking in and out of consciousness.  _

_ He heard a soft cough, turning around to find his mother walking into the room.  _

_ “Beanie,” his mother called before letting another cough. “Oh, gosh. Ah, darling, grab your lunch. You too, Wonshik.” _

_ Beaming at the mention of food, Wonshik rushed to the kitchen and Hongbin huffed, fondly exasperated, following calmly after his friend's eager dash. _

_ “Piping hot,” she presented two brown paper bags to them, dimples flashing, the spitting motherly image of Hongbin. “I made some kimbap and sandwiches.” _

_ The lunchboxes, plain but heavy, were set inside in the bags and Wonshik plucked one from her hands gleefully while Hongbin took the other, grimacing slightly when she pulled him down to her level, peppering his cheeks with noisy kisses. She was utterly fond to see her little son was not so little anymore. Out of all people, she had been the one most excited to learn of his expulsion. _

_ “I knew you were being mistreated there,” she had explained at his look of shocked confusion when he told her the news, roughly a year ago, not too long after he left Hakyeon's house.“I would've pulled you out of that school sooner but you were always so stubborn to resolve it on your own, I didn't want to force my hand into it because you'd resent me.” _

_ He had blinked, awed that . . . she was right. He would've probably resented her for not trusting his instincts despite how poor they had been. “But I have a record for it…” He recalled the principal's scathing words. “...didn't sound like I handled it well enough.”  _

_ She planted her hand firmly on the table—very close to a whack—and stared at him squarely in the eyes, stern but not unkind. “You did what you had to. I will never doubt your judgment, Bean.” She said it with so much conviction that it warmed his heart.  _

_ He appreciated her belief in him, even when he had kept little for himself.  _

_ “Thanks, Mrs. Lee.” Wonshik smiled when she kissed his cheek too like he was her second son. “You make the best lunchboxes.” _

_ “Only once in a blue moon, dear,” she replied in singsong as she sized him up, cupping his cheeks. “Today's treats are only because you boys look a bit peckish. You and Bean have grown so much over the summer.” _

_ “I hope we won't stop growing until we're like...six feet.” Wonshik wondered wistfully as she let him go.  _

_ Hongbin rolled his eyes. “Worry about your brain more. If it gets anymore damaged, you'd be the quintessential jock with a ball for a head.” _

_ “Hush, you prickly bean.” she whacked him on the upside of the head, which made Wonshik cackle. “You both ought to hop off now or else you're gonna be late.” She beckoned them to the door.  _

_ Wonshik gave her a quick one-armed hug before walking to the door. Hongbin moved forward to do the same but suddenly, she started coughing again and he hesitated, biting his bottom lip with worry. That can't be good. Hongbin noticed she has been having bad cough spells the past few weeks and, somehow along the way, lost weight too for swallowing food became difficult whenever her throat grew sore. _

_ “Mom…” he gripped her trembling hand. _

_ “I'll be fine, dear.” She flashed a wobbly smile, massaging at the skin above her sternum. “Your father is gonna go to the clinic to buy some medicine for me, I'll feel better soon.” _

_ “Okay…” he faltered, doubtful. _

_ “Oh, darling.” She pulled him into a hug, voice slightly hoarse but her coughs subduing. “I'll be okay, I promise. If it gets worse, I'll see a doctor.” _

_ “Okay.”  _

_ His arms wrapped tightly around her and he tried not to think of how bony her shoulders felt. On some bad days, she looked paler than her usual rosy self but he trusted her word; if her coughs continued to persist any longer, he would remind her to book an appointment with a doctor. Yeah, that was a good idea.  _

_ He rubbed circles on her back, hoping it'd soothe the ache, even just a little.bit, before he pulled away, returning her smile. With that, he picked up his bag and started to make his way to the front door where Wonshik was waiting, tying his shoes. Distantly, he heard her coughing again but the sound trailed off, diminishing, as he stepped out onto the front porch.  _

_ Wonshik was tying the laces of his shoes, leaning against the wall.  _

_ “Come to think of it, why don't you tryout for soccer, Bean?”  _

_ “Not interested.” Hongbin shrugged, taking out his shoes from the rack. “Basketball is more of my thing.” _

_ “Hmm…” _

_ “Oh, wait.” Hongbin said after rummaging through his bag momentarily. “I left my bottle in the kitchen.” _

_ He turned on his heel, walking back inside the house. _

_ “Hey, mom, did you happen to s—,” _

Crack! 

_ The crashing sound of ceramic startled him. His steps faltered. Where the hell did that come from? Was it from the kitchen? He tugged at his bag as he walked hurriedly through the house. He heard nothing, aside from the footfalls of his bare feet against the floorboards.  _

_ “Mom?” he called. _

_ Still nothing.  _

_ “...Mom?” _

_ He returned to the kitchen.  _

_ He gaped at the sight of it; dozens of shattered ceramic pieces lay on the floor. What the— _

_ She was leaning heavily against the counter, clutching her chest, heaving as if the air refused to give into her lungs. He sidestepped the mess, reaching for her until she slowly looked at him, gaze unfocused with unshed tears. His mouth went dry, blood turning cold, at the sight of dark liquid dripping from the corner of her mouth and the fingers against her chest; the color, the remnant of his waking nightmare, was grotesquely stark he remembered seeing it first at the age of five:  _

Blood _. _

_. _

_. _

_. _

The first thing Wonshik noticed after waking up was the horrible skull-splitting pain. 

Oh, fuck. It hurt— _ everything _ hurt. He groaned but regretted it instantly when the vibrations resonating in his head triggered the planes of his brain to shatter, chaotic and restless in the chasm of his mind. It sucked so badly. Oh, good grief, how much did he drink last night to get this—

“Good fucking morning!”

“AH!”

Suddenly, there was an abundance of  _ more  _ pain as he ended up sprawled on the floor. Wonshik's back felt as if it was in flames, pain shrieking forth from the fall and he shut his eyes, trying to ignore the stinging ache; between his eyes, between his ears and in the stale patchiness of his mouth.

“Fuckfuck _ fuck _ ...” he cradled his throbbing head. “Who…?”

He got his answer when a shadow loomed over him. He squinted his eyes, seeing Sanghyuk's beaming face come into focus. 

“Good morning, hyung.” The younger man grinned as he whispered softly, merciful to Wonshik's poor ears.  _ The bastard.  _ “You fell.”

“Fucking thanks for that, Hyuk.” Wonshik gingerly pushed himself to a sitting position, blinking the dots out of his vision.

After his vision cleared to normal, he saw he was in his room . . . and Hongbin was sitting on the edge of his bed, curled up in a pale blanket and a cup of steaming hot tea.

“Yo,” he greeted softly with bloodshot eyes and tousled hair. “Good to see you alive.”

“How long have you been up?” Wonshik rubbed a hand over his face. God, even his hand stank of alcohol. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost 12 pm and you're still a little drunk, I believe.” Sanghyuk chirped, moving towards where Hongbin sat. “Or, at least, hungover.”

“How are you so...loud?” Wonshik gestured, trying to tilt by his slowly spinning world. 

“He didn't drink at all last night.” Hongbin supplied before taking a long sip that made Wonshik concerned he could  _ hear  _ it from his spot on the floor. “I gave Sanghyuk our spare key last night just for him to check up on us in the morning and made sure we didn't choke on our vomit—,”

Before Hongbin got to finish his sentence, Wonshik's stomach violently lurched and he hastily slapped a hand over his mouth. He heard Sanghyuk mutter an ‘uh-oh’ before there was a sharp roar in his belly and—

Sanghyuk hoisted him easily with one arm around his middle and they rushed towards the bathroom. The acidic burn scorched the back of Wonshik's throat, peeling at the muscles as he blearily saw Sanghyuk kick a door open and dragged him to the toilet bowl—

_ Oh, good God.  _ The putrid smell stung his eyes as he emptied his belly's contents, violently. The burn of bile and acids at his throat and he felt he couldn't possibly vomit any— _ oh, nope, the thought too soon _ . He heaved, clutching the ceramic end of the bowl, trying to anchor himself back to the skewed reality. 

Well, shit. He may have drunk more than he should've.

Flushing the toilet, his stomach protested when he struggled to push off from his knees. He heard footsteps and a glass filled with water was almost shoved in his vision. His eyes followed up the offered hand, seeing Sanghyuk's attentive smile with a pill of aspirin in his other outstretched hand. Wordlessly, he took a sip before swallowing the pill. 

“Thanks,” he managed to croak before washing down the remnants of bile with more water.

He finished drinking, the ringing in his head lessening slowly before Sanghyuk took the glass from his slightly quivering hands. 

“Can you get up, hyung?” The younger asked, gripping his shoulder as if a safety measure.

Wobbly, he slowly got up and managed to plant one feet—okay, now the other . . . and tried to stand . . . only for his knees to tremble and he lost his balance. Instinctively, Sanghyuk caught him and he mumbled a garbled ‘thanks’ as the younger helped him towards the living room. Hongbin was now lying on the sofa, tea almost finished and he was still in last night's clothes.

“Dude, you know you can't hold your liquor.”

“Fuck off.” Wonshik moaned. “Thanks, Hyuk. Ugh, I'm never drinking again.”

“You always say that after a night of drinking.” Hongbin deadpanned.

Sanghyuk chuckled, taking a seat next to Hongbin, looking like the most normal out of the three of them in a pale sweater, dark pants, and socks. He looked freshly showered too, Hongbin only looked slightly stale but still okay. Damn him and his gifted genetics. Suddenly, Wonshik felt a tug in the back of his mind as if there was something missing in the picture in front of him.

“Wait...  Where's Hakyeon-hyung?” he took the glass Hyuk placed in the sink, filling it up again with water at the kitchen sink.

“Oh, he left with Hana last night,” Sanghyuk explained. “I tried calling him but his phone has been off.”

“Huh,” Hongbin quirked an eyebrow. “What about the girls? Jaehwan? ”

“The girls took a taxi and they went club-hopping. As for Jaehwan, I think it was Taekwoon who sent him home because I saw them leave with the rest of the Tigers.” Sanghyuk absently scratched at his nose.

Hongbin nodded but Wonshik noticed a distinct hint on his cheeks. “Did something happened last night?” He wanted to try recalling but the mere thought of it already had his brain reeling in protest. “Why are you blushing?”

“I'm not blushing.” Hongbin spluttered.

“You're blushing even more,” he marveled at the blush, growing more pronounced on Hongbin's pale skin. “What  _ happened  _ last night, Binnie?”

“Nothing.”

“Sure, that's convincing.” Sanghyuk chortled.

“You saw something?” Wonshik asked, pulling one of the kitchen stools to sit. 

“While Wonshik-hyung was off drinking,” Sanghyuk began with a dramatic flair. “I happened to see that a certain soccer captain was…”

“Shut up.” Hongbin raised the mug threateningly.

Sanghyuk snatched it easily, smirking at the shocked look on Hongbin's face. “...was perhaps... enamored? Intrigued? Entranced?”

Simultaneously, Wonshik squinted his eyes while Hongbin gagged. “Taekwoon-hyung was flirting with Hongbin?”

“On the contrary,” Sanghyuk stifled Hongbin's efforts to hit him with a pillow with pushing the latter away with a palm to his chest. “I believe I saw it was also reciprocated? I saw touching just before—,”

“You  _ touched  _ him?”

“It wasn't touching!” 

Hongbin was positively dark in the face, making Sanghyuk laugh but the news didn't settle well in Wonshik's mind. Why didn't he go easy on the drinks and actually kept an eye on his roommate? Hongbin had the worst intimacy issues . . . ever. It was just how he was and mo one could blame him for it. Years of bullying had solidified Hongbin's walls, smooth and unclimbable, and it crossed his mind for a moment that perhaps, maybe Sanghyuk was lying. 

However, a part of him was hopeful it was true. This must mean something . . . although he doubted Sanghyuk was qualified to probe further. 

“Must've been the lighting though?” He grinned mainly for Hongbin's benefit, digging through the murk of last night's memory. “I was hugging Taekwoon-hyung too! That doesn't mean I was flirting with him.”

Sanghyuk missed the look on Hongbin's face, gratitude as obvious as day. Wonshik, however, did not miss the stricken look on the youngest's face as if he'd been reprimand for saying something he shouldn't and he almost felt guilty. It was mildly puzzling but Wonshik had a more demanding problem: the death of a headache thumping in the walls of his head.

_ Knock-knock knock! _

Sanghyuk raised a brow before turning to Hongbin. “Did you ask anyone else to come over?”

“Dunno.” He shrugged, not meeting the younger's eyes as he swirled the tea in his mug. “Could be anyone.”

“Hyuk-ah, please?” Wonshik staggered, taking up the vacant spot between them, draping himself over Hongbin. “Can you get the door? Pretty please.”

Sanghyuk scoffed, rolling his eyes but complied nonetheless. He got up, heading towards the door. As soon as the younger was out of earshot, Wonshik turned back to Hongbin, squinting suspiciously.

“I  _ will  _ be asking questions about Taekwoon,” he whispered in warning, trying to keep his voice leveled and not slurry. “You are going to tell me what  _ actually _ happened.”

“Assuming you'll be sober enough to remember?” Hongbin frowned as he put his empty mug onto the table.

“I  _ will  _ hurt you, Lee Hongbin, if you don't tell me.” Wonshik narrowed his eyes skeptically. 

“Or what?” Hongbin challenged.

“Or I  _ will  _ tell Hakyeon-hyung.”

Hongbin gasped indignantly. “You wouldn't dare—,”

“Tell me what?

“Ah!” Hongbin jumped back, surprised.

Wonshik's eardrums wanted to explode at the noise. He clutched his head, throbbing unpleasantly as Hakyeon settled between them, pulling the swaying Wonshik into a hug.

“Aw...” Hakyeon cooed, rubbing the gentlest circles on the younger’s back, the other hand cradling Wonshik by the nape. “Oh, my poor child.”

“He’s not functional today.” Sanghyuk pointed out, patting Wonshik's thigh, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Wonshik didn't bother replying, his head still spinning as Hakyeon tugged a pillow underneath his head to rest upon, playing with the shell of his ear that he knew Hakyeon  _ knew  _ would put him at ease. How Hakyeon managed to simply know how to comfort him was peculiar but unknowingly reassuring.

“Where did you come from?” Hongbin raised a brow.

“From my apartment.” Hakyeon serenely chirped.

“Your phone was off.”

“Eh, I couldn't be bothered to charge it.”

“Uh-huh,” Hongbin said dryly. “Okay, tell us… Sanghyuk said you disappeared off with Hana with your car towards the end of the night.”

“A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell.”

“So you kissed her?” Wonshik mumbled, tilting to lie down on the pillow properly. “Is that what happened?”

“No.” Hakyeon huffed. “Honestly, why must both of you ask as if I go around kissing people to find my match?” Peering from where he was lying atop the pillow in Hakyeon's lap, Wonshik and Hongbin shared an unimpressed look that Hakyeon did  _ not _ miss. 

He scowled. “It was rhetorical!”

“All possible grossness aside,” Hongbin shuddered at the thought of Hakyeon lip-locking with . . . well, anyone. “What really happened though?”

“We talked.” Hakyeon smiled, now taking to idly run his fingers through Wonshik's hair. Okay, that felt nice. Soothing. “We found a cozy corner somewhere along the Han River during the drive-out and we talked all night.”

“How romantic.” Sanghyuk drawled, unimpressed.

“It was.” He had such a sappy look on his face that it made Wonshik’s stomach queasy, wanting to run back to the bathroom again. “We're going out again next week.”

“Another date?” Hongbin pulled the blanket tighter around him, cocooning himself in its fluffiness. “Wow. That's like...three dates? Four?”

“It'll be our fourth.” Hakyeon beamed, looking the very image of smitten. “However, that's why I'm not here. I'm here to make sure you both aren't dead, that was a  _ lot  _ of alcohol you both drank.”

“I didn't vomit!” Hongbin pumped his blanketed fist victoriously. “Wish I could say the same for Wonshik.”

“Shut up.” Wonshik flipped him off, burying his face into the pillow in embarrassment.

It made Hakyeon laugh, who just continued stroking his hair. It was just so relaxing and it was doing something good to lessening his headache. Maybe he should keep lying down until the throbbing went away. Yeah, he should do that.

“Well, I'm gonna shower,” Hongbin announced, getting up slowly. “I'm gonna buy some food for brunch.”

“Then, you're heading off to the studio?” Hakyeon asked. 

“Yep.” Hongbin disappeared into the bedroom. “I'm heading there straight after my shower.”

From where he was lying comfortably (not that he'd ever admitted this aloud) in Hakyeon's lap, Hakyeon looked squarely at Sanghyuk.

“Have you told him yet?” 

Wonshik watched as the high points of Sanghyuk's cheeks darkened and the younger looked away guiltily like a child being reprimanded. Okay, that was the second time he has seen that look. “No, I haven't. It didn't seem like a good time to bring it up.”

“Tell who what?” Wonshik mumbled, looking up.

Hakyeon ignored him. “Will you be okay if more people know?” 

The look of horror flashed across Sanghyuk's face and immediately, Hakyeon's hand shot out to clutch over his. Wonshik's eyes bulged at the sight of the touch, so did Sanghyuk, but Hakyeon remained unyielding. What were those two going on about? And why did Hakyeon touch him so freely? Had they tried to match before?

“Hyung?” Wonshik struggled to sit up.

Hakyeon's other hand pressed down onto his forehead that made him yelp. “Hush, darling. You're still hungover.”

Sanghyuk looked down at the hand over his, the stark in their tones almost had him spooked. Hakyeon curled his hand into the curl of rhe younger’s palm, reassuringly.

“Sanghyuk, things will be fine.” He said, gently.

“This is trippy.” Wonshik groaned.

“Whenever you're comfortable to share.” Hakyeon pulled away, as swiftly as he had reached out, and Wonshik's head spun when Sanghyuk smiled at him. What did he just witnessed and what was missing from this damn picture?

“You know what…” Wonshik murmured, turning to snuggle closer into the warmth of the pillow. “I'm not even gonna ask.” 

“You cutie.” Hakyeon grinned, playing with his hair again. “But after Hongbin comes out of that shower, you gotta pop right in, darling. You stink.”

Wonshik let out a sullen whine, rolling over to hide his face, ignoring their laughter. He has to get over his hangover first if he ever wanted to remember what his fucking questions were.

.

.

.

_ Eighteen-year-old Hongbin sat beside Wonshik at midnight, silent and deep in thought. _

_ The place—no, the scenario—felt familiar, Hongbin thought. Waiting for news in hospitals always felt horrible, where the hours of the night felt stretched thin. His memory drifted back to two years ago, when he was sixteen,  after seeing the blood in  _ her  _ hands. He recalled he had sat on a bench with his head between his knees, his hands clasped together in prayer, the reason he wasn't sure why because he never believed in a God.  _

_ After Hakyeon received the news, they drove to the hospital where his parents were at. The entire car ride was solemn, Hongbin behind the wheel and Hakyeon sniffled in the back while Wonshik held his shaking hands. When they arrived, Hakyeon found his parents and rushed inside the ward, leaving them outside. Time ticked, an eternity after eternity as they waited. _

_ Eventually, Hakyeon returned with his head hung grimly, eyes and nose reddened from so many tears. _

_ “She died of a Shattered Bond.” He croaked, voice dry and broken.  _

_Wonshik and Hongbin shared a perplexed_ _look._ _Shattered Bonds was something of a myth; an old tale of a man and a woman who were soulmates. Whenever they were near each other, they saw color. If they were apart for too long, their bond would slowly ‘shatter’ and their magic of color would fade._

_ ‘Two colored souls torn in life must reunite' was the dictum of the beguiling tale. _

_ People only likened it as children's story, merely fantasy and nothing else. Hongbin had only ever known people (well, now one left) besides Hakyeon's sister who've experienced a Shattered Bond. _

_ “My sister was going to stay with us tonight because her husband was on the way from work after weeks of being abroad. They were gonna celebrate.” Hakyeon recounted the explanation from his parents, wiping at his running nose. “There'd been a drunk taxi driver on the road from the airport who didn't have his lights on.” _

_ Wonshik, who snatched a nearby tissue box, passed some to Hakyeon, whose mouth quirked before he gracefully accepted it to blow his nose.  _

_ “The driver passed out behind the wheel, hit my brother-in-law's car  _ and  _ the impact sent both cars barrelling into the highway barricade. Instant casualties.” Hakyeon's voice wavered. “My parents said she must've felt the bond shatter too just before she…”  _

_ There was a long, tense silence as the weight of the reality crushed on them again. Hakyeon’s lip trembled and his knees became wobbly, his self-control slipping. Hongbin bit onto his lower lip, his chest tight at his friend’s fragility. Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms tightly around Hakyeon.  _

_ More sobs started to spill from Hakyeon and Wonshik joined too as reinforcement. Hongbin clutched onto both of them, hoping that this was enough for now.  _

_ “I didn't believe it at first. I thought my grandma made it up, just to spook kids about color.” Hakyeon let out a shaky breath.  _

_ Wonshik bit down his bottom lip, tightening his hold on Hakyeon again.  ‘If one of the soulmates die, the other must too,’ was what he couldn't finish saying.  _

_ Hongbin was stunned into silence.  _

_ Suddenly, it felt like he forgot how to breathe. His lungs ached as if punctured by needles he couldn't see, tightening until they felt ready to collapse. He didn't hear the sounds of Hakyeon's sobs nor Wonshik's soothing words, all of it dissipating from the walls of his mind. If shattered bonds killed the souls, what was the  _ point  _ of such magic in the first place? _

_ Out of all that has happened, why did  _ **she** _ — _

_ “I'll be fine. You both should go home.” Hakyeon’s sniffles broke through his reverie. It startled Hongbin so much, he felt his hot tears spill from his eyes. “Text me when you get back safely.” _

_ Hongbin turned away, hastily wiping away the wetness from his cheeks. His heart sunk . . . into a dark ocean, devoid of anything real, his world tilted. He tried to breathe, hoping to buoy his self-control up to the surface but the claws of his fear grappled from the dark, relentlessly unyielding.  _

_ “Are you sure you don't want us to stick around?” Wonshik's voice was full of concern. _

_ “It's okay, I'll be fine here...you both should get some rest too.” Hakyeon patted Hongbin on the back, a hook that forced his consciousness above water. “Binnie?” _

_ “Yeah.” He coughed to mask the shakiness of his voice, his back facing them. “Wonshik, is it okay if you drive us back? I don't think I can.” _

_ “Sure.” Wonshik curled his arm around Hakyeon one last time. “Text us if  _ anything  _ happens, okay? When you get home...or whenever you need us to come swing by. Y'know, if you don't wanna be alone.” _

_ Hongbin gradually turned around, seeing Hakyeon's eyes glazed again but this time, with fondness. _

_ “Thanks.” Hakyeon hugged them tightly before they took their leave. _

_ As they took the elevator down to the basement parking where the car was, the drive back to Hongbin's house was eerie. His consciousness did not falter from the fatigue, his mind racing with thoughts like a coin constantly turning. If a Bond was shattered, it had to take both lives. _

_ “You okay?” Wonshik’s voice shook him out of his thoughts. “You've been quiet just before we left.” _

_ Hongbin shifted. “I've been dozing off.” he lied. “It's really late.”  _

_ Wonshik looked at him and for a moment, Hongbin was afraid his lies were transparent. He hoped Wonshik would not press this further, his courage was hanging by a thread and if it broke, he wasn't sure he'd be willing to voice anything out. _

_ “Okay.” his friend acquiesced. _

_ Hongbin nearly sighed in relief at dropping the subject. He turned back to the window, watching the streetlights zip past them as a fire raged inside his gut, hoping when he'd have some answers when he reached home.  _

_ By the time Wonshik parked his car on the driveway a little after one a.m., he looked too tired to even stay awake.  _

_ “Sleep over.” Hongbin offered, not wanting to risk Wonshik falling asleep behind the wheel. “You can borrow my clothes.” _

_ Wonshik did not have to be told twice. While Hongbin went quickly to the bathroom to change into his night clothes, Wonshik had climbed into his bed, waiting for a turn to shower only to fall asleep within minutes. Hongbin didn't mind anyway, tugging the blankets over Wonshik's snoring form, tiptoeing out of his own bedroom because he doubted he was ever going to sleep tonight. _

_ He walked up to the door of his father's study, knocking it raptly. _

_ “Dad?”  _

_ He didn't get a reply but the light peeking through the crack under the door meant his father was probably awake. He turned the doorknob, slowly swinging the paneled door and stepped into the room. _

_ His father was wrapped in a thick blanket while reading a paperback, looking weary as if he couldn't sleep. _

_ “Dad....” _

_ “Ah, sorry, Hongbin. I didn't hear you knock.” _

_ Time hasn't been kind to his father or his health. Two years have passed since the night at the hospital where Hongbin had waited on the bench yet he seemed to have aged more than that, coughs that prolonged even though he regularly visited clinics and took his recommended prescriptions. Now Hongbin had a hunch over the reason why. _

_ His father slowly got up. “What's wrong?” _

_ “I need to talk to you.” Hongbin's tone was clipped as the turmoil of emotions threatened to well up again, his chest twisted tight as if trying not to burst. _

_ “About what?” He tucked the paperback away. _

_ “About mom's death.” _

_ It was like a knife sliced the air, draining the room out of oxygen, ripped by a vacuum. The look on his father's face haunted him, ingraining into his mind, shoulders drooping as if his son had dumped the world on him. Maybe that was the truth . . . the truth Hongbin hadn't known.  _

_ “Hongbin...it's late. We can talk about it tomorrow.”  _

_ “No.” He defied. “We're talking about it  _ now.”

_ “Hongbin...”  _

_He knew his request was irrational, considering the late hour, his condition, his_ father's _condition. He saw the remaining years wiped off the older man's face. It was like watching decaying concrete, always a shadow of the foundation of his life—their lives—after her_ _death._

_ “Why didn't you tell me that Shattered Bonds would kill both souls eventually, Dad?” _

_ A raging ocean of rage and anguish burst forth, tears brimming in his eyes as he saw the crestfallen look on his father's look, resigned but not surprised. He hated it. He hated the guilt he saw, the lack of shock because it confirmed it  _ was _ the truth.  _

_ “How did you find out?” _

_ “Hakyeon's sister just died tonight.” Hongbin spat, the words acidic on his tongue. “Her husband got into a car crash. They were matched soulmates. She died because she felt  _ his _ pain too. A Shattered Bond.” _

_ “Son, please sit—,” _

_ “You've been dying. You've been dying the past two years.” Hongbin's voice cracked, the dam inside him breaking further. He was hurting, fingers itching with an urge to break something in his already crumbling world. “Mom’s been gone for two whole fucking years. When the hell were you going to tell me that you're going to die too?” _

_ The horrifying memory of that night on the hospital bench returned with a vengeance; his heart shriveling as he remembered watching her lie in a white bed, pale as the moon, succumbed to the parasitic tumors in her lungs and brain. The Stage 4 cancer had consumed her rapidly with no detection of prevention. Chemotherapy barely did anything; it was like the parasite wanted to devour her life mercilessly.  _

_ However, her face had been eerily peaceful as if relieved of the tortures of her mortal body before they covered her with a veil. _

_ “Hongbin…” his father's voice was weak, devoid of any fight that made Hongbin resentful. “Son,  _ please _.” _

_ “Why didn't you tell me?” he demanded, voice cracking. _

_ He deserved to know; he didn't want to know. His father didn't deserve the right to look so defeated; he deserved so much more than the phantom tumor of magic consuming his life. Hongbin wanted his thoughts to  _ shut the hell up.  _ He wished he understood the pain of decaying away for two years but seeing the proof clinging onto his father's sunken cheeks and bony limbs was too much to try to fathom.  _

_ “Please sit down.” _

_ He wanted to but suddenly, his legs were like lead. His heart crippled with grief, his tears streaking down his face as his strength left him and his knees gave out. He stumbled as the truth settled on his shoulders when the time he didn't know he had with his father was ticking away, a stubborn clock that refused to stop. _

_ “Hongbin…” _

_ He crawled to kneel before the armchair, laying his head against the bony juncture of his father's lap, much like what his mother felt when he last held her. Fingers carded through his hair as he wept. His father lost so much weight and he hated himself for not realizing this sooner. _

_ “Just tell me why.” He pleaded. _

_ He didn't want this. He didn't want to be alone. Time was already slipping between his fingertips as he clung to this moment, not wanting to forget the warmth of love brushing through his hair, cupping his cheeks and staring at him in the eyes. _

_ “I don't want to leave you.” His father's voice was frail. “That's the reason why I never told you about it. Shattered Bonds... Hongbin, you were sixteen when she died. I...don't think I could've put you through more pain than you already did. I know it's a poor excuse but forgive a father not wanting to burden his child...” _

_ He wanted to deny it but he couldn't; his father was a quiet, reserved man and it made Hongbin wished he—they—had spent more time; happier time, not ones riddled with sorrow and undetectable diseases. “How long…?” _

_ ‘How long do we have left?’ were the words he doubted he was able to say. ‘How long do I have before you're taken away?’ _

_ “I don't know.” _

_ “Does it hurt?” Hongbin looked up, eyes wide and red. “Even after she…?” _

_ “Sometimes.” His father admitted, wiping away the tears from his cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “The pain will vary depending on how the bond was shattered. Your mother died in her sleep from the cancer, she felt no pain. That's why I can still live as long as I can now.” _

_ No sooner had he said it, he winced, a hand moving to soothe the spot above his sternum. “However, it's been growing everyday.” _

_ Hongbin took his father's hand, holding tight and understanding that the unspoken words: ‘it means I'll have to reunite with her soon'. _

_ “What about color?” He sniffled, staring at the blue threads of the blanket.  _

_ “I stopped seeing color when she died.”  _

_ Hongbin tried to wrap his mind around it; trying to imagine what it'll feel like to suddenly wake up one day to not see any trace of color and to feel a phantom pain that didn't belong to his own body. He tried to imagine what it would feel like to feel his body wasting away, aching to go to the earth as age sped up faster. _

_ His skin crawled at the thought of losing his colored sight and body. What if one day he just saw black and never woke up again? _

_ “Hongbin…” His father called out as if reading his thoughts. “You can't think Shattered Bonds are the same for everyone. Soulmates and the magic of color are the same, Shattered Bonds is  _ not.  _ I don't think you'll ever experience it in your lifetime.” _

_ Hongbin fell silent.  _

_ There was no guarantee in that; his mother had been kind, so beautiful with life. The color of magic did not stop the cancer from growing inside her nor did it saved her from death. It certainly wasn't saving his father. _

_ “Son, your soulmate is out there, made for you. You will find love.” His father's tone held so much conviction but the words sickened him to the core. “You're  _ not _ going to face the same fate as we did.” _

_ He didn't believe it, he will not believe it. Why should he believe so when the magic has brought him nothing but misery? It did not save his mother, it did not save Hakyeon's sister and her husband.  _

_ It wasn't saving his own father, the last person he could anchor his reality too.  _

_ The fight in him evaporated as he laid there, letting his father comb his hair to lull his thoughts, calm enough to realize that even if it didn't feel like it, they still had some time. He helped his old man into his bedroom, completely silent as he held him tightly. They needed to talk again in the morning—and the days he has left—but for now, Hongbin was too tired to even think. _

_ When he returned to his bedroom, he was surprised to find Wonshik sitting up, curled in on himself. Oh, shit. _

_ “Hi…” Wonshik hesitated. _

_ He didn't know where to look; he took an interest at the carpet. _

_ “...hey.” _

_ “I heard shouting a while ago. Are you okay?” _

_ “Yeah.” _

_ No, he wasn't.  _

_ “Sorry that I fell asleep in your bed.” _

_ Hongbin remained silent. _

_ “Bean?” _

_ He hated this. _

_ “Bean, talk to me…” _

_ Without thinking, he stumbled forward as though the shadows of his sorrow wanted to grip him by the heart, dragging him down until he suffocated. He collapsed again, this time into Wonshik's arms and his tears were renewed again, his throat becoming dry as the pain settled into him again like a dagger sinking between muscle and skin. _

_ As he wept with Wonshik gently rocking him with soothing hushes, Hongbin recalled holding his mother's hand almost every night, watching the beloved woman who raised him wither away. Hongbin would never feel her hugs again; never would feel her kisses to his hair or the warmth of her dimpled smile when she plucked the sorrows from his heart. Now, he was going to lose his father, the man who withstood so much pain—immense pain Hongbin didn't know—to remain alive for his only son.  _

_ It felt like living a nightmare; he was going to be alone.  _

_. _

_. _

_. _

The week passed faster than Hakyeon had anticipated. His phone buzzed on Friday afternoon, hours before his date with Hana with a text: 

**‘Hey~’**

Hakyeon yawned, tiredly rubbing his eyes as he read the text notification from Hana. 

**_‘Hey~ Miss me already? ;)’_ ** he replied.

Her reply was swift:  **‘Har-har, you wish.’**

His final year in Engineering was beginning to be unbearable as readings piled up and his lecturers have started assigning more reports for them to complete and he still had a thesis to figure out by the end of the semester.

His papers and books lay scattered on the coffee table in the living area of the apartment he shared with Wongeun, who was currently out. Wonshik sat curled up beside him, eating a cup of ramen quietly while dressed in his soccer uniform, looking at his phone, before Hakyeon has to drop him off at the field again. He didn't mind being sort of a chaperone; at least it gave him reprieve from hours of calculating and academic papers.

**_‘:O oof how you wound me’_ **

**‘I just have to let you know I'll be running a little late this evening :(‘**

He pursed his lips in annoyance. He turned to Wonshik who sipped the soup from the cup, placing it beside an empty one Hakyeon had finished not too long ago. He replied:

**_‘...another lab accident?’_ **

**‘no, jaehwan and i need to figure out the consensus of our lab reports before we start working on it this week. he promises that it won't take long…’**

“Well, shit.” was what Hakyeon did not type. More than miffed, he sunk back into the sofa and ran a hand down his face. Good lord, why was it so difficult just to have a peaceful weekend date without having to deal with her lab partner?

“What's up?” Wonshik asked before picking a sandwich pack from the table, uncapping its plastic seal.

“The cockblock is at it again.” Hakyeon huffed.

“Oh, Jaehwan?”

“Yes, that guy.” Whining, Hakyeon leaned against Wonshik with a pout. “I'm probably overanalyzing this—,”

“Uh huh.”

Hakyeon smacked his arm, earning a yelp from the younger. “—but this is beginning to be a bit ridiculous.”

“...As in?” Wonshik raised a brow, bewilderedly before he took a bite. 

“His timing, you bag of rotten potatoes.” Hakyeon hugged the same arm for comfort. “I just mean… I just wanna spend time with her with no hiccoughs. Is that so much to ask for?”

He was sure Jaehwan must actually be a nice person but . . . as much as he'd like to give Jaehwan the benefit of doubt, he didn't want to even though he should. Jaehwan was still a stranger.

“Stupid.” He groaned. 

“Uh, hyung…” Slowly, Wonshik placed the sandwich pack onto the table while Hakyeon remained attached to his arm. “I know you and Hana have great chemistry ever since I introduced you guys together but what's with the antsy-ness?”

Hakyeon furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?” 

“You've known each other for a few weeks now. This is like...your third date?”

“Fourth.” he promptly corrected.

“My point is…” Wonshik picked up a napkin. “There shouldn't be any rush to these sort of things. Shouldn't you be taking your time before you dive into deeper waters?”

Hakyeon pondered in silence. 

He wasn't really rushing this, right? Sure, they had taken things quick; their second date was a few days after the night they met when he learnt Sanghyuk's secret. The group-affair-turned-date they had after the Wolves’ game was over a week since then. The last date had left him pining when they talked for hours and hours, separated by layers of warm clothes and compelling conversation. 

He remembered the way her eyes sparkled as they laughed over the silliest jokes and there had been times where he thought this was too good to be true. He knew it was too quick to judge but his curiosity burned like wildfire when he stared at her lips at their last date, wondering if this was what he had dreamed of.

“You're already planning on kissing her?” Wonshik quirked a brow.

For once, Hakyeon did not want to answer.

“Hyung…” Wonshik echoed carefully. “Is that what it's about? You want to know if you and Hana are matched?”

Damn Wonshik and his perceptiveness.

_ ‘Definitely.’  _ “Don't know.” He shrugged, knowing his lie was slipping through his teeth and his heart bared on his sleeve. “It's not that big of a deal, Wonshik.”

He looked away, missing the way Wonshik pursed his lips in concern. He tried not to think too hard of the last time he tried to match two years ago to Minhyuk, whose eyes were always so beautiful, especially when he laughed or stared at Hakyeon with so much wonder and adoration. That had been a bad break-up; they dated for almost a year prior to their first and  _ last  _ kiss.

They'd been in a field of flowers, deep into spring, and it was such a good date after weeks spent talking about the possibilities . . . of their future. They had bought cheap wine, food and sat on the boot of Minhyuk's car, waiting for the sunset. They had stared at it, wondering of the colors it held before he noticed Minhyuk leaned close, remembering the promise they had.

_ “Together?” Hakyeon asked  _

_ “Together.” Minhyuk smiled.  _

Their lips touched and everything in the world, the planets and the stars, had stood still with bated breath before it was about to explode into fireworks.

_ It didn't. _

The silence of  _ nothing _ after that solitary kiss had been numbing to the core and not a memory he'd like to revisit . . . ever.

“Hyung…” 

He blinked himself out of the daze, wishing memories did not cut so deep. Wasn't time supposed to heal all wounds?

To his surprise, Wonshik stretched over, pulling him into a one-armed hug. Hakyeon stared blatantly at the gesture, noticing that the younger refused to meet his eye, a flush blooming at his cheeks. Damn Wonshik and his freaking strong perception.

Hakyeon slowly leaned into the embrace, relishing in this rare affectionate act from the man whom he thought of as his little brother. 

“There's nothing wrong with waiting out on a little more. You've still got time.” Wonshik's face and tone was almost stoic but the way his hand started to rub Hakyeon's side was comforting.

Hakyeon wished he had Wonshik's stable conscience, stemmed from an unconditionally loving family background of unmatched parents who have a happy marriage that brought them two cherished children. He knew Wonshik's perception of color was different from his own; the latter never actively pursued his soulmate, resigned to looking for love in other places like friendship and family.

Oftentimes, he felt like he and Wonshik were on the opposite sides of the color spectrum, one in a chase for the rising sun while the other was adrift at a calm sea. 

What must it feel like to be unburdened by the constant anticipation that any potential relationship hinged on the outcome of a single touch? 

“Thanks, Wonshik.” he murmured. 

“Just…before you kiss her...” the younger hesitated, struggling for words. 

What was he supposed to say? What sort of words would console Hakyeon's aching heart, his dreamer and romantic of a soul, who only wanted to seek out his other half, promised by the stars? 

_ ‘Don't get your hopes up’ _ sounded cruel.  _ ‘Don't cry if it wasn't meant to be _ ’ did not soften the punch nor did  _ ‘don't ignore the probability that you're going to get your heart broken . . . again.’ _

“...be careful.” Wonshik eventually settled for.. 

Hakyeon's smile quirked. “I will.”

They pulled away.  Wonshik cleared his throat, getting up to his feet. “Can you drop me off to practice?”

“Sure.” Hakyeon nodded, wanting to get his mind out of the dark waters of his mind. 

It was time he stretched his legs anyway, pocketing his phone and took the keys offered from Wonshik.

“Lemme clean up real quick.” Wonshik picked up the remainder of his food, carefully putting it away. 

As he started to clear the table, Hakyeon did the same with his papers and books, shuffling them together to put away. When Wonshik moved to the pantry to throw the ramen cup away, Hakyeon unlocked his phone to text to Hana:

**_‘awww…well, if it's more convenient, how about i bring dinner over then? (:’_ **

**‘ehhhhh??? nuuuu i’d feel bad if i have to make you wait’**

He chuckled, replying  **‘hahaha then what am i supposed to do? i can't make you choose between your grades and me XD’**

**‘uhhh i'll try to settle the reports with jaehwan quickly and we can go to that awesome sushi place i told you about… besides i miss you >_<’**

**‘awww you cutie’**

**_‘look who's talking hahaha see you at 8-ish? :3’_ **

Mollified, he smiled.

**‘alright, see you~’**

_. _

_. _

_. _

_ The funeral was held the next morning. _

_ Hongbin stood next to Wonshik, both sporting dark circles under their eyes as telltales of how little they slept. After they've paid their respects in the funeral room, Hongbin watched as Hakyeon and his family stood next to the bouquets and wreaths of flowers that surrounded his sister's and husband's smiling portraits. In his arms, he held his orphaned five-year-old nephew, who slept restlessly with dried tears on his small puffy cheeks.  _

_ Poor kid, Hongbin thought to himself.  _

_ Hakyeon caught the sight of them and tapped his mother on the shoulder, handing his nephew to her before walking up to them.  _

_ “Hi.” his smile was fatigued. _

_ Wordlessly, they hugged him and he bit on his lip, stifling the tears he didn't know if he could shed anymore. “Can we take a walk?” _

_ “Are you sure that's okay?” Wonshik eyed his family worriedly.  _

_ “I just need a breather. Besides, there aren't that many guests.”  _

_ Hakyeon briefly turned around to wave at his mother, catching her attention to ask permission. Somehow, she understood his request and nodded once, readjusting her sleeping grandson in her arms before turning to whisper something to her husband. _

_ “I can't be away for long.” Hakyeon clarified. “I just need a moment.” _

_ They took his word for it, following him through the hallway until it led out to the back of the building. They flanked at his side, letting him take them by the hand as they stepped out into a small playground under the morning sky; blue, cloudless and a contrast to the grim occasion. _

_ “I didn't get a text from either of you last night on whether you'd reach home or not,” Hakyeon whined petulantly, sitting down on a bench shaded underneath a tree. “I was worried.” _

_ “”You...didn't wait up on us, right?” Wonshik fidgeted in guilt. _

_ “Would it hurt if I told you I did?” _

_ Wonshik turned pale before pouting. “Hyung…” _

_ “I didn't.” Hakyeon smiled wryly before tugging Wonshik down to sit with him, Hongbin the only one left standing, kicking at the gravel and weeds.  _

_ “So you  _ did _ sleep?” _

_ “I did.” He nodded. “...very badly.”  _

_ Hongbin and Wonshik shared a look before the oldest shrugged as if to say  _ ‘better than nothing’ _. Hongbin's own sleep had been sporadic last night and he had a feeling it won't be resolved anytime soon, especially at thought of his father who was weak to even lift his head this morning; the gravity of their talk last night weighed down on him. Hongbin almost felt bad for yelling and losing his composure last night when he should've been more level-headed or patient.  _

_ “I crashed over at Hongbin's house.” Wonshik patted the seat beside him, a silent invitation for Hongbin to sit with them, blinking his eyes rapidly to stay alert.  _

_ Hongbin slumped down beside him and they sat in silence. It was like having a moment of solace, away from the pain and sorrow, only them for the moment even if they carried weary hearts. _

_ “Binnie…” Hakyeon called, reaching out towards him.  _

_ He placed his hand over Hongbin's and it made dread pool at the bottom of Hongbin's stomach at the touch, wanting to squirm away, not wanting to remember what dreadful pain such touches could—had—brought. Such a simple touch had the power to inflict so much joy or agony in anyone's life. _

_ “After you guys left, I had trouble sleeping...and it got me overthinking bad stuff.” Hakyeon admitted, squeezing his hand that did nothing to unwind the tight coil in his chest. “I didn't wanna drown so I tried to have happy thoughts to calm myself by thinking about you both.” _

_ Wonshik sat on his other side, putting a hand on his shoulder and . . . what the fuck were they both doing? Why did it feel like  _ he  _ was the one hosting the funeral? _

_ “Hongbin, I'm sorry about your dad.” Hakyeon's thumb brushed against his knuckles. “I didn't realize until you and Wonshik left—,” _

_ Hongbin snatched his hand away as if burned. Wonshik and Hakyeon were startled, the former unsure of what he saw while the latter looked slightly hurt. It was a clear opposite to how he reacted to Wonshik's comfort. _

_ Hongbin blamed it on daylight; circumstances of things looked different in the morning. _

_ “Hyung, stop it.” Hongbin's blood curled. _

_ He didn't want their pity.  _

_ “Hongbin.” Wonshik gripped his shoulder firmly. “It's okay, you can talk to us about it.” _

_ “No, I don't want to.” _

_ God, even the faintest mention of it stabbed his heart and he can't help but feel the wound bled again after he hastily closed it. He stood up, wringing his hands as if to shake off the phantom of the touch. He heard Wonshik whisper to Hakyeon, ‘give him time, he's just sensitive’ before he walked into the sun, wanting to soak up in its warmth to feel okay again. _

_ It didn't help. _

_ Instead, all he could think of was the sun would always set upon the horizon of his days, taking away all the life he loved. _

_. _

_. _

_. _

Freshly showered, Hongbin absently ruffled a hand through his damp hair, loving the smell of his new body wash—oatmeal and shea butter—as he rounded off a corner towards his favorite bakery on the way to the park, ready to have a day of solitude after a long arduous week. As much as he liked the party last week (and trying not to recall the color  _ pink _ in his memory), classes picked up and his professors were already dropping assignment outlines and hints of future deadlines. 

The cool evening air was crisp against his skin as the telltale sign of autumn rapidly approaching, the days growing shorter, and he was eager for the bakery's specialty: firecracker sausage buns with lots of cheese. 

Boy, he was hungry.

His stomach grumbled longingly at the thought of it, empty since breakfast (he tended not to eat lunch because it tended to make him sleepy), as he stepped through the doorway, inhaling deeply at the scents of all the delicious bread and—

He halted.

_ Pink. _

“Hi.” Taekwoon waved benignly.

His heart raced at the sight of the older man, looking like a pastel dream in a soft pink sweater, ripped blue jeans and faded yellow sneakers. He tried to reel back the blush blooming on his cheeks, thinking  _ oh good lord he is so . . .  _ before he shook his head. Now was really not the time to feel flustered, Lee Hongbin.

“...uh, hi.” he settled lamely. “Hi, Taekwoon.”

There was a pause of awkwardness as they stood there, almost a mirror to each other. Hongbin had hastily thrown on anything black he owned—black T-shirt, black torn jeans and black shoes—and he felt like a desaturated mirror to the Taekwoon's colorful mirage. He almost wished he had bothered drying his hair down before coming here.

“Are…you planning on getting anything?” Taekwoon tentatively gestured at the rows of assorted pastries. 

Hongbin snapped out of his reverie. “Ah, right. Food. That's it.” 

His body lodged itself into autopilot mode, picking up a tray from the stack with a pair of plastic tongs before he could embarrass himself any further. He turned back to Taekwoon, unsure of where to start and he peeked at the older’s tray, already stacked with three pastries.

“How have you been?” Hongbin opted to ask, hoping to ease the stiff uncertainty between them.

“Surviving.” Taekwoon grinned, shrugging. “Classes are starting to pick up and soccer practice is good. How about you?”

“Surviving as well.” Smiling shyly, Hongbin went to the display rack to pick up a chocolate bun. “Autumn is near.”

“I didn't see you at the park the past week.”

“Ah yeah," somehow, the fact Taekwoon remembered their encounter from the park made Hongbin's stomach flip. "Assignments have already started rolling in so I haven't gotten the time.”

“Oh? What's your plan for this weekend then?” Amusedly, Taekwoon quirked a brow. “Going to another party? Is Wonshik planning on getting hammered again?”

Hongbin chuckle-snorted. “Nah, not another party. Good friend duty dictates I shouldn't influence him to get drunk out of his mind this weekend.”

“What about ‘best friend duty' then?” Taekwoon smirked, recalling their conversation last week that made Hongbin smile too.

“Best friend duty would be to encourage Wonshik to drink until he's hungover and vomits the next morning.” Hongbin chirped, beaming enthusiastically that has Taekwoon cackling at the mischief. “He did that twice last week, actually. 

Hongbin knew he shouldn't but he snorted at the memory of Wonshik being dragged like a ragdoll by Sanghyuk. He wasn't sure why but they moved along the racks, picking up more food as a petite girl wearing an apron with oven mitts came from the back room where the kitchen must be, refilling some of the emptier racks on the opposite side of the store with sweet-smelling pastries.

“Cheeky,” Taekwoon commented, shaking his head in mild disbelief. “How cute of you to be so supportive of his poor drinking habits.”

Hongbin felt a distinct fluttering in his chest but tried not to read too deep between the lines. 

“He hates that I’ve got a higher tolerance because he never wins against me.” He grinned cheekily, hoping it masked his nerves. “He was always a little shit at drinking games.”

“Maybe a rematch soon?” There was a playful glint in Taekwoon's eyes. “Himchan was  _ not _ happy that he and Wonshik tied. You could join us this time, I could buy the drinks.”

Hongbin chuckled at the memory of last week, picking an apple strudel. “What is it with you trying to get people drunk?”

“Its funny to watch people loosen up after they hit their liquor,” Taekwoon admitted, mischievously before helping himself to the same chocolate bun as Hongbin did. “And I do remember how cute you looked with the alcohol blush last week, Hongbin.”

He wished he had been prepared for that but he wasn't. Instead, he ducked his head and felt the traitorous heat flaring to his cheeks. 

“You must say that to a lot of people.” Hongbin turned to him. 

“Not really.” Taekwoon chuckled, averting his eyes and rubbing his nape where a pink flush arose. Hongbin thought he looked endearing, just as he did last night and moved to grab a chocolate sprinkled donut. 

“So...” He absently brushed a fringe out of his eye. “...where are you heading after this?”

“Probably back to the dorm, getting more sleep.” Taekwoon took the same donut as well. “How about you? Any plans?”

Hongbin finally found their signature firecracker sausages rolls and took two, making Taekwoon look at him amusedly. “I'm going to the studio and get some work done.”

Taekwoon's eyebrows shot up. “On a Saturday?”

“I'm...dedicated to my work.” He added, sheepishly.

They moved towards the cashier. “Seems kinda early in the semester to be starting on assignments.”

Hongbin placed his tray onto the counter, next to Taekwoon's, realizing they had similar tastes for the chocolate ones. “There aren't any heavy assignments at the moment, just minor ones and I'll probably just be procrastinating by walking in the parks..” 

“Getting ready to take photos?” Taekwoon grinned as the petite girl from earlier wounded around the counter, punching in the price. 

“Together or separate?” She asked before Hongbin got to reply.

“Separate.” 

“Together.”

They spoke simultaneously. She smiled politely at the look they shared, Taekwoon smiling serenely while Hongbin gaped. 

“My treat.” Taekwoon said, cheekily, already pushing a few bills towards her. “But pack the bread separately please.”

Instinctively, Hongbin grabbed him by the clothed elbow. 

Wait.

He removed his hand just as fast. Why was he suddenly quick to touch?

“Hyung…” 

“It's just so I don't accidentally eat one of yours.” Taekwoon feigned innocence, unperturbed before turning to the girl. “How much?”

“Twenty-two thousand won.” she answered.

“Hyung…”

Graciously, Taekwoon passed the notes into her outstretched hand, pulling away Hongbin's other arm by the elbow that tried to grab at the money. “Ignore him for he doesn't know what he's saying.”

“Jung Taekwoon,” Hongbin whined, trying to tug again but the older man simply tilted his head, smiling and Hongbin had half a mind to pinch it off his cheeks. 

The girl merely chuckled, glancing between both of them before opening the register to pass Taekwoon his change.

She packed their pastries into two bags as requested, watching them amusedly as they walked out of the bakery. Hongbin held his bag, pouting exaggeratedly at its contents before huffing at Taekwoon in mock indignation. The older merely chuckled, already taking out one wrapped donut and was ready to bite into it.

“You didn't have to…” Hongbin shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“I wanted to.” Flashing another sincere smile, Taekwoon looked down at the bread in his hands before he said. “Actually, the thing about the park you mentioned earlier…” 

The hesitation in Taekwoon's tone made Hongbin's steps falter with curiosity and dread. Taekwoon cleared his throat, trying again.

“Do you want to…” Taekwoon rubbed back of his neck. “...to maybe hang out with me at the park?”

Hongbin watched that blush return to Taekwoon's cheeks, matching his hair and shirt, and he wanted to slap at himself for even noticing.

“I...uh…” He hesitated. “I…”

“At least, hang out with me and see Snowy while we're eating donuts?” Taekwoon lifted the pastry timidly like a peace offering, his right wrist full of colored leather bands. His eyes bore the same meaningful look from last week, the one that made an unfathomable feeling tugging at Hongbin's gut, almost prodding him as if to say yes as he stared at the offered pastry. 

He ought not to; he had assignments (sort of) and wanted to spend the day alone. The way Taekwoon's feline eyes pinned him down earnestly like a puppy look did  _ not  _ help with his resolve. He wasn't friendly to strangers . . . so why didn’t Taekwoon feel like one?

“Sure.” He relented, sighing resignedly.

The smile he received from Taekwoon was bright and it did something funny to his fingertips. 

“Here.” Taekwoon gently prodded the offered pastry to his bag. 

“I've got my own.” Hongbin shook his head, trying to pull his bag away.

“I'm offering.” Taekwoon insisted.

“You already paid for mine!” Hongbin whined, resisting the urge to pout, tugging away. “Eat your donuts!”

“I have more than you do.” Taekwoon grinned.

“I'm not  _ that _ hungry.”

As if conspiring against him, his  _ own  _ stomach roared in protesting like  _ ‘I want it gimme!’  _ and he blushed again, making Taekwoon chuckle. Before he could react, Taekwoon dropped the offered donut with its plastic seal into Hongbin's bag and he stood there, gaping like a fish, almost begging with his eyes to Taekwoon.

“My sister's an architect too.” Taekwoon explained, shrugging. “So I kinda know how little people in your major tend to eat because of work.”

Hongbin saw no point of denying it either, not when his own stomach sold him out. He sighed again, exasperated but slightly grateful, and hung his head in defeat.

“Let's go.” he whined.

If he didn't think Taekwoon's twinkling laugh was sweet, he would've punched him right away.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh this was a challenging chapter to write but yay its HERE! 
> 
> i hope you guys like it (or not, because of the angst huhuhu)
> 
>  ~~(i'm actually very nervous of this chapter is gonna be received asdfghjkl ~~~~~~  
> i've got nothing much to add except they all need hugs, especially Yeon and Bin
> 
> always, thank you so much for reading!
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/beanedbybean)


	8. seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has planted their seeds of longing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, i'm sorry that the promised update took longer than expected! D;  
> my weekend suddenly turned busier, i couldn't proofread it in time and my body was totally out of whack too (remember to always take care of your health, kids) asdfgjasdf  
> anyway, i hope you enjoy reading~

**.**

**.**

**.**

**. seven .** ****

_‘Fire on fire,_

_Would normally kill us,_

_With this much desire,_

_together we're winners.’_

 

— Sam Smith, ‘Fire on Fire’

.

 

“Do you want another one?” Taekwoon offered a donut.

“It's okay.” Hongbin declined with an amused smile, staring at the older's way of walking.

Taekwoon placed the donut back into his bag, walking backwards as they made their way to the park. It was probably a bad idea since he couldn't seen where he was going but Taekwoon didn't really care at the moment; the worst that could happen would be him falling on his ass in front of a cute guy but at least that (hopefully) guaranteed a laugh, probably a dimpled smile too.

Hongbin seemed to have the same thought, shaking his head with exasperated mirth. “You're gonna fall on your ass like that, hyung.”

“I don't mind,” Taekwoon smirked, lacing his fingers behind his back, beaming at Hongbin. “I can deal with the embarrassment.”

Hongbin chuckled. “Why put your butt through such humiliation?”

“Don't worry about my butt. Worry that I could fall for you.” Taekwoon teased cheekily.

He wasn't sure what to expect but the pretty pink flush was lovely on Hongbin's cheeks, his eyes blinking rapidly in surprise and . . . good lord, he was _cute—_

“Ack!”

Abruptly, Taekwoon stubbed his heel against a crack on the concrete sidewalk and stumbled. He spluttered in shock, dropping his bag of donuts too as he landed, predictably, on his butt. Dazed, he looked up to see Hongbin had faltered in his steps too, a clenched fist pressed against his mouth.

His eyes gleamed with worry but there was also restrained mirth, his dimples threatening to burst with a smile.

“Well...” Taekwoon made a show of stretching his limbs, stifling a bout of giggles mixed with burning embarrassment as his face flushed red. “...at least the floor is comfy. You could join me here.”

Finally, Hongbin burst into genuine laughter and the sound of it was adorable and cheeky, it made Taekwoon's fingertips feel fuzzy. Taekwoon ducked his own head, his embarrassment dissipating to make way to something warm that he didn't want to identify and the floor didn't seem too bad.

“I hope you don't mean to hang out here.” Hongbin said between chuckles.

“Oh, that was _totally_ my plan.” Taekwoon picked up at his fallen bag of donuts, mercifully all of the pastry still sealed and he patted the spot on the concrete sidewalk beside him with utter enthusiasm. “You don't mind joining me here? We could lie down until the concrete cracks.”

Hongbin rolled his eyes with a small smile but offered his arm, bent at the elbow, towards Taekwoon. “You're cracked.”

“How dare you.”

“Says the guy that wants to bum on the sidewalk.”

“Hush!” Smiling sheepishly, Taekwoon gripped the arm over the layer of Hongbin's black shirt and got up to his feet.

Thankfully, Taekwoon could see that they were very near to where the park entrance was. Sharing another smile, they walked side-by-side towards the entrance archway between the stone perimeter walls. The trees were beginning to yellow, like the first flickers of flame kindling to life, and he noticed Hongbin's eyes were being filled with wonder at the sight of them, much like a kid waiting to see fireworks.

Was Hongbin able to see…?

“Hongbin.” He called out.

“Hmm?”

“If I may ask….how long have you been into photography?”

He detected Hongbin's hesitation and wondered if it was okay to ask; he knew photography wasn't a common hobby, especially with its requisite to being able to see color and that _always_ involved talking about soulmates. Taekwoon didn't particularly like talking about it either but he always had an unsettling knack for curiosity.

“Roughly about two years.” Hongbin’s smile was strained, evidently uncomfortable talking about it.

“Ah, I see.”

“You?”

“Around high school.”

“Oh.”

Awkward silence filled the space between them again. Taekwoon tried not to worry too much about it; they were still, essentially, strangers . . . even though he felt as if they'd met before.

However, today was not the day to be pondering over old mysteries.

As they walked through the entrance archway and down the winding path that cuts through the trees and shrubbery, the park was quiet and tranquil. The distant sound of water fountains in the lake, faint barks of dogs with the gentle ring of their leashes and leaves rustling as the evening wind blew again, brushing the planes of his face with cool kisses. Suddenly, Taekwoon's doubt crept up. What was his plan?

What was he supposed to do?

In hindsight, asking Hongbin to join him was appealing but now . . . silent pauses were inevitable and filling them with small talk _wasn't_ Taekwoon's forte.

“Do you often take pictures alone?” he attempted conversation again.

Hongbin blinked at him, contemplating an answer. “Most of the time, yes.”

“Same.” Taekwoon smiled but his resolve was faltering; a distinct feeling crept up that the conversation was going to end sooner than he'd liked.

C'mon think, Taekwoon, _think._

His ears perked at the sound of a sudden rustle of leaves from a bush beside him. He turned towards it, stepping closer to take a look and _—_

“Oh,” Delighted, he grinned. “Hi, Snowy!”

Hongbin halted too, seeing the older crouch onto his haunches in front of the emerging and familiar cat with blue eyes. It looked up at Taekwoon, meowing and its bushy tail flicking in greeting. When Hongbin moved closer too, Snowy turned towards him as if suddenly attuned to his presence and immediately approached him.

Before Hongbin could even respond, Snowy bumped its head against his shin, nuzzling and purring loudly like a pet returning fondly to its master.

“Did he just…” Taekwoon gaped in disbelief, utterly betrayed. “...he never greets me like _that_.”

“He must really like me then.” Hongbin stifled a chuckle at the older’s wounded expression. “Sorry, hyung.”

Snowy sniffed curiously at the donut bag he carried and Taekwoon watched as Hongbin’s nose scrunched when it started pawing at the bag, rearing up on its hind legs. Taekwoon's pout deepened; Snowy never gave him that much affection before. He sulked and sat onto a bench that was a few paces away, unpacking another donut while Hongbin joined him, Snowy at his heels.

“He even follows you.” Taekwoon whined before sinking his teeth petulantly into the donut.

“Don't be jealous.” Hongbin teased, dimples flashing. “He liked me first before you tried to woo him with treats the last time.”

“But he's fat because of me!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Snowy, who fell back onto the concrete, exposing its bulging belly under the white curls. “That's unfair.”

Hongbin snickered. “But he's yours now. I'm sure he'll grow fond of you.”

“He'd better.” Taekwoon huffed. “I bought him a new collar.”

“Oh, you did?” Hongbin watched as Snowy rolled over onto its side as Taekwoon clicked his tongue, its head perking at him with interest. Reaching inside his pocket, Taekwoon fished out—Hongbin almost snorted—another packet of cat food and as Snowy got up in interest, Hongbin saw a strip of a collar peeking amidst the thick fur, the color was a pale peach.

“Huh, I thought you couldn't keep pets in your dorm.”

“I'm probably renting an apartment soon. My roommate would definitely love the extra space. Besides, I'd love to have pets of my own, I had six cats with my three sisters growing up.” Taekwoon plucked a small treat to let Snowy sniff at it eagerly.

“Six cats?” Hongbin echoed.

“They were all my sisters', two cats for each of them.” Taekwoon smiled fondly at the memory. “My parents wouldn't let me add another to the litter so I had to share, which was a pretty good deal for me because I got to play with _all_ of them.”

“Three sisters?” Hongbin grinned. “Must’ve been nice growing up with siblings.”

Taekwoon snorted. “Not really when you're the youngest.”

“Was it rough growing up with them?” Hongbin bit back a smile.

Taekwoon grimaced, horrified in memory. “They used to braid my hair when I was old enough to walk and made me wear dresses. I even had pink bows in my preschool graduation photo.”

Hongbin couldn’t help himself, he doubled over in laughter at the thought of a young Taekwoon with adorable squishy cheeks in pigtails, cringing at the flash of a camera for picture day. Taekwoon bit the inside of his cheeks, trying not to be infected with the case of giggles, but Hongbin’s loud laugh— unrestrained and delightfully contagious —made it difficult to keep a straight face. He cleared his throat, poking Snowy in the nose when it sniffed for more treats on his fingers.

“You don't have any?” Taekwoon unraveled more of the packet. “Siblings, I mean.”

“Nope.” Hongbin popped the last syllable. “It’s just me.”

“Oh, just you and your parents, then?”

Abruptly, hesitation was etched on the younger's face, severe as if he just swallowed a lemon. “...just me,” Hongbin echoed.

Taekwoon's fingers faltered. “Oh.” He mentally cursed at himself. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean—,”

“It's okay.” The lie was blatant through Hongbin's teeth as he dismissed it with a nonchalant wave. Taekwoon didn't know how to console him after such a bad slip-up, cursing himself for souring the mood. Way to go, Taekwoon.

_“Meow.”_

He looked down at Snowy, who placed its paw at Taekwoon’s suspended finger with the treat. Hongbin noticed it too, eyes crinkling and it gave him an idea. Tentatively, Taekwoon extended the treat to Hongbin as if in apology.

“You can feed him if you’d like.” He darted his eyes away.

This was a contrast to the last time Taekwoon remembered, Hongbin had been the one nervous when the older approached the younger. Eyeing the cat food, Taekwoon tried not to let his hand twitch as a slow smile curled onto Hongbin’s lips as he took it, their fingers _very_ close to brushing but not enough.

“Sure.” Hongbin nodded and Snowy moved towards him, eyes following the exchange.

Thinking that it was enough for now, Taekwoon was about to dig back into his donut and at least try to not be a bigger fool than he already was before Hongbin spoke up again.

“Don’t sweat on it too much, hyung.” He reassured Taekwoon, the corner of his mouth quirking slightly. “My parents have been gone for a while now. After they passed away, I’ve...got friends.”

It did lighten his spirits but the guilt was still present. “They look after you.”

“Probably more than I’m willing to admit.” Hongbin admitted, wryly. “Wonshik and Hakyeon are like my brothers.”

“You’ve got some good friends.”

“They’re absolute idiots.”

“Ah, remember… Birds of a feather flock together.” Taekwoon shrugged and it made Hongbin laugh again, tension bleeding off of him now.

As his laughter died out, an easiness slipped in with the silence between them as Taekwoon ate his donut and Hongbin fed the cat. Taekwoon noticed the younger was copying the way he did the last time, feeding the treats to Snowy’s mouth and he wished it didn’t make him feel so lightweight, afloat on some soft cloud. This little endeavor was intriguing—and should’ve felt off-putting but it didn’t—in the way Hongbin had him so transfixed _._

Whatever the reason was, he was going to find out.

“Anyway, where are your sisters now?” Hongbin petted Snowy with his free hand. “Do you still live with them?”

“Nope, they're all married.” Taekwoon nibbled on his donut. “They’ve moved out and I’m the last one in the nest.”

“Oh, do you have anyone special then?”

Taekwoon was surprised by how candid the question was, he was stunned. Hongbin didn't look any better either, a crimson flush blooming on his cheeks and the tips of his ears as if he blurted the words without thinking. Taekwoon's heart was weak.

Deciding on playing coy, he smirked. “When you say ‘special'... what exactly do you mean by that?”

Hongbin positively looked like he wanted to throttle Taekwoon right then. He chuckled at the younger's silent expression of murder and decided to sum up his messy and questionable existence with two words:

“It's complicated.”

Hongbin's brows shot up. “So there _is_ someone.”

Taekwoon shrugged. “Or no one at all.”

“It wouldn't be complicated if there's no one involved.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “It doesn't take two people for things to be complicated.”

Hongbin seemed unsure how to counter to that statement. These were dangerous waters to tread and Taekwoon didn't want to take the plunge, not when all he had were faded memories and . . . dreams. The kind of dreams that tethered precariously between consciousness and sleep. He did not remember all of them but they planted a seed of longing deep inside, fueling his desire to keep _looking_.

“What about you, Hongbin?” he lazily smirked, leaning back onto the bench. “Do you have anyone special?”

“No one.” Hongbin answered curtly, not meeting his eyes.

_‘I doubt that,’_ he wanted to voice it out but he glimpsed a storm behind Hongbin's eyes when the younger turned away, looking back at Snowy. It made him curious . . . and for strange reasons, sad too. In the brief span of time he got to know Hongbin, he thought a frown did not suit the younger's face.

He thought Hongbin deserved to smile.

“Any nephews or nieces?” Hongbin asked.

The mention of it instantly perked Taekwoon, eyes sparkling. “Yeah, I’ve got one nephew! He’s the most adorable thing ever. Can I show you a picture?”

Uncaring about the risk of suddenly sounding an overzealous uncle, Taekwoon fished out his phone and opened his gallery, scrolling quickly to a folder labeled _Family_ and picked a picture instantly showing his nephew, chubby cheeks with a wet nose, blearily looking at the camera. Taekwoon leaned over, stretching his hand to show it to Hongbin, who grinned at the sight of Minyul.

Taekwoon beamed but he wished his mind didn't focus too much on the short distance between them, shoulders almost brushing, the littlest traces of warmth felt. As he pulled away and pocketed his phone, he decided that he'd been damning himself if he chickened out and didn't take his chance now.

“Oh, by the way, Hongbin...” He picked up his donut again, hoping to appear casual. “Would you still like to go hiking to take pictures of the stars?”

_‘...with me?’_ was what he did not dare to add, not yet anyway, as he watched for Hongbin’s reaction.

“Do you usually take pictures of the stars alone?” Hongbin deflected with another question.

Taekwoon bit his lip, contemplating whether to humor Hongbin's game; what an interesting young man he was. “Sometimes.” He admitted. “It's always better with company since setting up the camera can take a while.”

“Ah, I don't think you'd like me being around for long.”

“I doubt that very much, I'm still talking to you.” _Really_ determined not to lose his nerve, Taekwoon propped his chin with a hand. “And I find that I quite like talking to you...and looking at you too. You are _really_ cute.”

His free hand itched to brush the lock of brown hair that fell into Hongbin's eye as the younger ducked his head, cheeks dusted pink. Oh, Taekwoon really liked the sight of it. “How are you so...forward?”

He stifled a grin; he has been told that he was too bold on numerous accounts, from his clothes to the way he talked to the way he flirted. Taekwoon knew he was a simple man with simple methods; he pursued what he desired. He was brave—or in other cases, a fool—but that hardly hindered him.

However, this—the underlying tingle between them—was not simple. He wouldn't call it chemistry . . . but it can't hurt to follow where it would bloom.

“Too much?” He scratched his nape, fingers running through his pink hair and the motion wasn't missed by Hongbin. “I can tone it down if you'd like.”

Hongbin wasn't sure how to respond to that, somehow blushing deeper as if entranced by Taekwoon's hair.

“But I can't promise about our next meeting.” Taekwoon grinned earnestly. “I do like seeing you blush.”

Hongbin turned away, ears tinted as well and Taekwoon figured that was how far he'd get with the teasing before he spooked the younger. There was a lot he wanted to know of Hongbin, so much more though he wasn't sure why, but he noticed the way Hongbin had a hand touching his own forearm, the gesture spelled guardedness.

“Anyway,” Taekwoon fished out a pen from his pocket and scribbled numbers onto the receipt from the bakery. “If you ever want to bring some friends along too, I can arrange a group hike. Maybe ask Wonshik to tag along.”

Hongbin snorted unattractively. “He's afraid of bugs.”

“So am I.” He confessed. “If anything, I'd probably be the most unpleasant company, I would be screaming all the time.”

“Then why go hiking at all?” Hongbin raised a brow, amused.

“Because the stars are beautiful, especially away from all the pollution of the city.” Taekwoon carefully ripped a part of the receipt, the one with his written phone number. “The view makes it worthwhile having to endure creepy crawlers in the forests.”

“How brave of you.”

A bark of laughter slipped from Taekwoon as he tucked the paper into a fold. The younger peaked at the folded paper extended to him, numbers—a phone number—written clearly on the unprinted side. Hongbin hesitated as he did with Taekwoon, who held his breath, and took it.

“If you ever feel like having an adventure, you can call me.” Taekwoon smiled lopsidedly, slightly nervous, anticipating Hongbin's response.

“I'll think about it.” The younger eventually settled, the smallest hint of a smile on his gorgeous face.

“Okay!”

Taekwoon would take it anyway; at least it wasn't a definite no.

He was about to turn back to his donut, starting to feel the first giddy jitters of what just happened, but he noticed that Snowy had acquired a new friend.

“Oh?”

He realized it looked familiar; its unmistakable shiny black fur as it sniffed at Snowy, large brown eyes blinking with quiet curiosity.

“He's another of yours?” Hongbin gestured at the black cat.

“Nope.” he stared at the way the two felines sniffed at each other. “But he could be. He's cute.”

Hongbin nibbled at the end of his own donut, watching interestedly as Snowy got up from lying on the concrete, reciprocating its curiosity, a mirror of contrast to one another; white and black.

“I just might adopt it too.”

“...you’re like on a cat lady mission to adopt as many cats as you deem cute.”

Taekwoon grinned, turning to Hongbin. “Can I adopt you too?”

He laughed heartily, knowing he probably deserved the packed donut thrown at his face in retaliation from Hongbin for that cheesy line.

.

.

.

_“Dad?”_

_Hongbin quietly pushed the ajar door of his father's bedroom with his foot, carrying a plate of buttered toast, some sliced pancakes with a glass of orange juice. He walked in, footsteps light against the carpet as he settled on the edge of the occupied bed and carefully placed the glass onto the bedside table._

_The room was well-kept, mostly bare after he organized the stuff during one of his cleaning sprees in the house. Stress-cleaning helped clear his mind and it was perhaps the only way he could do anything productive while his father slept. The hours he spent resting stretched and his body had little energy to remain awake nowadays._

_His father stared vacantly, his mind clearly elsewhere, even though it was already past noon, and he looked . . ._

_Hongbin did not dare to even try to describe what he looked like. It was like the aging sped up, his internal youth ticking away faster than the tick of the two hands on the wall, his face gaunt, eyes sunken and a crease on his forehead. Hongbin brought the plate of food closer, about to place it onto his father's lap with the utensils wrapped in a napkin, before—_

_“I'm not hungry.”_

_Hongbin sighed heavily through the nose. “Dad, you haven't eaten since yesterday's breakfast.”_

_“Not hungry.”_

_“At least take a bite?”_

_“Thank you, Bean but I am really not hungry...”_

_Hongbin pursed his lips, defeatedly placing the plate on the bedside table, not having the energy or appetite to even try to eat the food to prevent it going to waste. He sighed again, watching the older man close his eyes, breathing so silently as if he had gone back to sleep. Hongbin sat there, unmoving, in the gentle glow of the midday, unsure what to do with himself as his father mulled over the silence._

_Hakyeon and Wonshik were about to come over soon, he expected. They hadn't really left him alone after what happened at the funeral three weeks ago but it was mostly because they all needed each other's company. It was a silent agreement, natural in its own right, and they wouldn’t have it in any other way._

_From their almost daily routine of hopping from one's house to another, Hakyeon was doing okay—not great but okay. His immediate family was fine, coping the best they can, but everyone else in the extended tree was gone the day after the funeral and Hakyeon did not want to endure the silence of his home alone for the summer when his nephew attended camp and his parents at work. Wonshik stuck around for both of them, spending more time at their houses than his own, acting as the glue between them._

_They spent their days in a kind of limbo, the rise and fall of the sun had blurred with the darkness of the night, and Hongbin's mind felt stuffed full with cotton. As much as he and his father had talked about spending time with each other, Hongbin began to realize—and eventually, resigned to fate—that perhaps . . . they missed those days. His father barely got out of bed, hardly able to walk on his own and Hongbin was—_

_“Bean…”_

_The deep voice broke Hongbin out of his reverie and he clasped at the hand reaching shakily towards him, withered and pale, the color in his veins washed away with time._

_“Yeah, dad?”_

_“I'm sorry…” the older man looked at his son, eyes glazed with bone-deep fatigue._

_Hongbin wished he didn't hate the sight of his father . . . but he did; the color of his warmth was disappearing, the darks in his hair and eyes were turning colorless, the skin of his hands crumbling like weathered paper and the light in his eyes slipping like the fading of a star. This was more than an image of old age creeping; it was a colorful canvas becoming transparent: drained and brittle._

_“We still have time.” He weakly tried to reassure, hands shaking to grip the weak hand of the last vestige of his childhood._

_His father shook his head, patting the edge of the bed closer towards himself. “Come here.”_

_Hongbin scooted nearer and the same free hand reached up, running through his hair. The gentle touch prickled at his chest and he bit back a sob, bit back his tears. He wished he wasn't so needy, his wretched body of a boy on the brink of being a man._

_“You've grown.” The old man chuckled, petting his head. “It's a shame I won't be able to live long enough to see you go into university...or get married…or possibly see my own grandkids.”_

_“Dad—,”_

_“However, you shouldn’t mistake the regrets of an old man to be the expectations of your future, Bean.”_

_“I…”_

_Words have failed him so much recently._

_“I have to tell you a few things.” His old man tried to sit up straighter, gesturing for the glass of juice. With great relief, Hongbin took it and raised it gently to his father's lips, assisting the older to take a long gulp. It seemed he had a lot to say._

_As he placed the glass away, his old man cleared his throat._

_“First,” he began. “I leave everything to you; the house, all my finances and that was left from your mother. It should definitely be enough to put you through that course you wanted in Seoul University—,”_

_“Wait.” Hongbin hesitated. “Wait, wait, wait.”_

_“Hmm?”_

_Hongbin's mind reeled, screeching to a halt by the sudden direction. “I don't—I can't, no… I can't take the money.”_

_Suddenly, the old man's expression morphed to something akin of being unimpressed, screaming ‘_ seriously?’ _and Hongbin shrunk, feeling like a kid who said something silly. The hand returned to his hair, patting him chastely, as a smile stretched on the older's face._

_“What do you mean you ‘can't'? It's your inheritance.” His father chuckled, a ghost of warmth lingering in the laughter. “Do what you want with it. I know you've been looking at admission forms before the holidays started. I saw the fliers in your room.”_

_Hongbin fidgeted, absently playing with his thumbs._

_“I made sure that your mom and I saved enough to put you through a few years in university. Enrol into whichever course you'd like. We want you to have a good shot in education and your future when you make your decision.”_

_It was so . . . conflicting to be talking about a future—his future—and it brought a chill just form the thought that in a few years, or maybe even in a few months, his tragedy of a life was going to be reconstructed, shaped by forces out of his control, and it'd be like an unfamiliar mosaic, a fracture of a puzzle realigned again._

_“Now, we've kept a separate account.” His father gestured for the bedside table, finger pointing to one of the drawers. “My boy, could you please…?”_

_“Okay.”_

_From inside the drawer, he pulled out a sealed brown envelope that bore the stamp of a national bank and felt slightly heavy in his hands like his insecurity and trepidation._

_“Now, this would be slightly dull, y'know, grown up stuff.” His father chuckled as if it was a silly joke they shared._

_“What's inside?”_

_“Some credit cards and bank statements. This would be more for your daily expenses. It'd be good if you kept university and life spendings as separate. You probably need to learn how to keep track of your records and one of my regrets is not teaching you the basis of it in time—,”_

_Slowly, it was becoming too much to process; he wasn't sure if he was even ready to face this . . . this gloom of his future. How was he supposed to learn how to handle this on his own? He wasn't even of legal age yet! Even if his body was, his mind surely wasn't—he still had so many childish tendencies._

_He left the dishes in the sink from last night's dinner, forgot to wash last week's laundry. He didn't even brush his teeth properly this morning!_

_“D-dad…” he stuttered, wishing desperately that he didn’t crumble now. Between the two of them, they both can't collapse under the reality._

_“Bean,” the familiar wrinkled hand was placed over his own shaky one. “Breathe, son. Breathe slowly. You're going to be fine.”_

_Lies._

_The thudding of his blood reverberated throughout his ears until he felt it in his chest, tight and constricting, ready to collapse in itself and his head pulsed like an erratic bass._

_“Bean, listen to me.” his father's voice rang dully in his head. “Breathe slowly. In. Out. In...and out.”_

_He poured his best to concentrate on his breathing, heart pounding wildly in his chest on the verge of breaking his ribs. He felt the grip around his hand tightened, an anchor piercing through the tumultuous sea of his anxiety to remind him that he wasn't sinking._

_“Bean?” his father squeezed his hand._

_“Yeah, I…” he let out a shaky breath. “I'm f-fine. I'm okay. I'm—,”_

_“Overwhelmed.”_

_“...a little.” He guiltily admitted. “Just a lot to process.”_

_“I'm sorry.” his father smiled tiredly. “Usually an executor will read all of these to you and maybe a banker as well to explain it but I'd rather if my own son hear from me first.”_

_Hongbin shrank in himself; he felt insignificant, helpless and so . . . lost even with all of this preparation. Lulling back and hanging his head dejectedly, he gripped his father's hand, hoping to remind that these hands used to hoist him up when he was a child, pat his head whenever he cried or smiled._

_“I do have one wish left.” His father tilted his head. “Would you like to help me with it?”_

_“Anything.”_

_“Let's go to the beach.” His father looked out the window wistfully. “I would like to see it while we still have the chance. You can bring Wonshik and Hakyeon if you prefer the company.”_

_“No.” Hongbin shook his head; his friends have already seen him cry too many times, he didn't want them to be burdened by his sorrow in case they got dragged into it. They couldn’t collapse together. “We'll be fine. I can drive us there.”_

_“Cheeky.” His father grinned. “You don't have your driving license though.”_

_“I won't crash the car.” He promised with a smile._

_“In another lifetime, I would've trusted you to crash it.” The older man chuckled. “The car we have is too old for you.and no matter how hard your mother and I tried to clean it, it_ still _smells of feet.”_

_Okay, well…._ That _one he couldn't deny; anytime they went on a road trip, he rolled down the window at the start of their journey._

_“You'll be fine, Bean.” His father reassured again, cupping his cheek, stroking with a thumb. “You won't ever be alone. You'll have Wonshik...and Hakyeon with you. Their families called me to reassure that they'll be around if you ever need help.”_

_He wasn’t good at expressing himself but Hongbin knew he owed Hakyeon and Wonshik big time._

_“Just…” his father croaked, his hand twitching in Hongbin's grip. “...promise me a few things.”_

_Hongbin hesitated._

_“Bean…”_

_“...I'll try.”_

_“Promise me that you won't close yourself to love.” His father pleaded. “You have friends to love. A_ soulmate _to love.”_

_“But—,”_

_“I know people tend to chalk up meeting your soulmate to be something purely romantic but Bean, it’s more than that. A soulmate is a companion for life, the other face of a coin that you are. You may not like the romantic notions but a soulmate—your soulmate—is more than that.”_

_Again, the talk with the soulmate—he wanted to splutter, protest, object . . . yet the broken look Hongbin received made him want to run away. This was just . . . a lot to process._

_“Having spent all those years with your mother,” his father traced circles on the back of his hand. “...of course I wished we had more time but that doesn't mean we didn't have any. We were friends for a good number of years. We got married and lived many long years_ together afterwards. _We have a home here. We have good friends. We got to have you as a son and that's our biggest blessing.”_

_Those shaky hands moved up to cup his cheeks. Hongbin felt numb between them as his face was cradled closer until their foreheads touched. He closed his eyes, uncaring that the sting of tears renewed, the first of many he would shed for the years to come._

_“Promise me you won't deny yourself that greatest gift life will have to offer.” His father whispered._

_No._

_“I promise.” Hongbin lied._

_He didn't want it._

_No matter what his father said—or anyone said—to him about it, he will_ not want it. _Whoever his soulmate was, he hoped they lived a better life than he did, devoid of loss and uncertainty and he hoped they'd find happiness elsewhere. Wherever they looked for it, he knew it will not be with him._

_It will never be with him._

_“Let's go to the beach tomorrow.”_

_._

_._

_._

Hakyeon hummed under his breath, legs swinging below from where he sat on one of the tables in the laboratory, absently scrolling through the app on his phone as he waited. He was dressed up for another date—the fifth and counting!—and he thought, personally, he looked more cleaned up than usual.

His hair wasn't styled, he grew bored of trying to style it with gel or wax, and opted for a simple dark turtleneck, a mid-tone trench coat, dark jeans and dress shoes. He even put on some cologne and he was anxious, to say the least. He wasn't entirely sure why, especially after the way Hana had hugged him tight when he first walked in.

It wasn't a peculiar gesture, he liked hugs and she did too but her tone, coy and fidgety, had him startled.

“Could we talk?”

“Talk as in…?” He probed gently.

“Talk about...stuff.” She cryptically decided, pulling away while still wearing her lab coat. “Just...give me a few minutes to get ready?”

“Of course.” he nodded.

With that, she let go of him with a bright smile and head back to the lockers where she kept her things.

_‘Stuff?’_ he echoed the word in his head. What sort of stuff was she planning to talk? He didn't like how ominous _talking_ could be sometimes; he thought they were getting along perfectly well. Oh god, was she suddenly not interested? Was she gonna break things off with him? Was this a break-up date even though they've only—

_‘TCHAH!’_

He jumped in surprise at the noise. The door swung open too fast, rebounding against the wall with a loud thud as someone came stumbling into the laboratory, carrying piles of big stacked cardboard boxes.

“Ah, sorry.” The person stammered. “Coming through!”

Wait.

Hakyeon recognized that voice.

“Jaehwan?” He called out.

“Who's there?” Jaehwan groaned under the weight of the boxes, utterly blocking his view. “Ah, if you're near, steer clear ‘cause I can't see a thing—,”

Hakyeon hastily hopped off the table, rushing towards the younger when he noticed him stumbling towards the stools near the door. The boxes threatened to topple, tipping hazardously as Jaehwan maneuvered blindly to sidestep one of the benches propped near the door. He wasn't careful enough, his foot getting caught on one of the legs and—

“Oh, shit—!”

“I got you!”

Hakyeon swooped in, carefully latching an arm around Jaehwan's waist just before he` could slip. Spluttering, Jaehwan stumbled a little and Hakyeon caught him again, this time with a firmer grip and his other arm managed to break the fall of one of the boxes tumbled free.

“Oh, shitshitshit—,” Jaehwan squeaked. “Shit—,”

“Gotcha.” Hakyeon reassured, grunting under the immense weight as he helped straighten Jaehwan onto his feet, feeling the tingles moving up his arm where it pressed against Jaehwan's pale coat.

He put the box he saved onto the nearest table within arm's reach and unloaded another from Jaehwan, clearing his vision. He found Jaehwan was breathless, cheeks flushed and panting heavily, a light sweat that has his bangs sticking to his forehead. Hakyeon pulled away slightly, dropping his arm from Jaehwan's waist—that was narrower than it looked in the oversized coat—before straightening himself, dusting at his shirt.

“Oh, Hakyeon. Hello!” Jaehwan beamed when he saw the older's face. Then, he backed away more and noticed Hakyeon's entire outfit. “Oh.”

“What?” Hakyeon asked, self-conscious.

“Uh,” Jaehwan hesitated, averting his eyes. “Are you going out on another date with Hana?”

For a moment, Hakyeon began to feel the first stirrings of panic; did something get on his face? Were his clothes all that rumpled when he decided to forego ironing them out at his apartment earlier? Did he . . . look bad?

Seeing the horror emerging onto Hakyeon's face, Jaehwan raised his hands—gloved yet stained with dark ink—quickly.

“Oh, no, no! I didn’t mean that—it's not bad—,” Jaehwan hastily clarified with panic. “—you don't look bad at all even. I think you...”

Hakyeon braced himself; oh, good God. Was Jaehwan going to threaten him to stay away from Hana? Or at least attempt to lay the words gently to Hakyeon that _he_ was interested in her too and tell him to back off?

“You…” Jaehwan rubbed the back of his neck, not meeting Hakyeon's petrified gaze. “You look good.”

The wheels in his mind screeched to a halt.

“Anyway,” Jaehwan cleared his throat, turning back to the boxes before Hakyeon could reply. “Thanks a lot for helping me earlier.”

“Ah...sure.” He replied, stunned with what just happened. “No problem.”

Jaehwan averted his eyes away, trying to hide the dark flush on his cheeks that Hakyeon wasn’t sure what to make off as he went up to the boxes, unstacking them slowly. Clearing his throat to not make a big deal about what just happened, Hakyeon gestured at the boxes.

“What’s with the boxes?” Hakyeon poked at the nearest box. “Why were you carrying so many of them?”

“Oh, these are just some office supplies for the department’s printing room.” Jaehwan answered, opening one of the smaller boxes that was filled with stationery items. “The deadline for the reports were just last week so I'm just here to help them restock.”

“Oh.” Hakyeon nodded. “Just you?”

“I asked Hana for some help but—,” Jaehwan smiled at him. “—she said she was gonna be busy.”

Hakyeon couldn’t think to add more than a singular generic ‘ah’ of understanding. The silence stretched on again and Hakyeon wanted nothing more than to fidget or make the walls swallow him; he wished Hana would come sooner.

“Thanks again.” Jaehwan took one box on each arm and started to move towards the cabinet in the corner.

“Oh, Jaehwan.” Hakyeon called out after the younger’s back was turned, noticing something—a large dark yet holographic splat-shaped—against the stark paleness of Jaehwan’s lab coat. “There’s a sticker on your back.”

“Ah?” He placed down the boxes, trying to reach for it onto his back.

Hakyeon moved closer, noting that it was out of Jaehwan’s reach, located at the spot where it stuck between the lower side of his shoulder blades and placed a hand against the cotton of Jaehwan’s coat. He gripped the sticker and Jaehwan heard the adhesive being ripped off, turning around to see Hakyeon hold it up; it had the cartoon of a corgi dog with bunny ears.

“Cute.” He stifled a smile.

Jaehwan chuckled, extending an outstretched hand where Hakyeon dropped the sticker. “That would be from one of the kids.”

Hakyeon blinked. “Kids?”

“I volunteer at a nearby kindergarten.” Jaehwan explained, carefully smoothing out the sticker. “They had a birthday party earlier and one of them got stickers for a gift. I guessed I missed one.”

“You...volunteer?” Hakyeon echoed, intrigued.

“Yeah. At first, I volunteered just for my scholarship requirement last semester but now, I just go back because the kids beg me to.”

“Wow.” Hakyeon was genuine in his astonishment.

“The kids are really fun. Wee devils but so much fun.” Jaehwan beamed, toying with the sticker absently with a finger. “One of them tried to put glitter on the cake cake earlier and then tried to make me eat it. It didn't taste any nicer either.”

Hakyeon stared at the curve of Jaehwan's plump lips when he smiled, thinking _okay_ _that's_ _not fair._

“How often do you volunteer?”

“Mostly in the evenings.” Jaehwan smiled serenely. “After lab hours...or on weekends when they have special programs with parents or teachers. I don't get to go there very often.”

Hakyeon tilted his head. “You must really love kids.”

Jaehwan shrugged, bashfully, the tips of his ears darkening that ignited a frustration inside Hakyeon to want to _pinch._ “Kids can be cute if you have the patience for them. I volunteer there mainly because I do want to specialise in pediatrics one day.”

Even though he didn't want to, Hakyeon felt a twinge of emotion slip between his amazement, a taste he didn't like that he had it in himself sometimes: envy.

Jaehwan was adorable, smart _and_ kind-hearted.

A triple threat.

“Do you like kids, Hakyeon?” Jaehwan inquired.

Hakyeon stared at his shoes, trying to stamp down the revolting coil of envy. He didn't like feeling this way; he shouldn't compare himself to Jaehwan or to anyone anymore. He should've been beyond this stage already at this age, not let his damn heart be subjected to the feeling of being puny.

“I do.”

“Any nephews or nieces?”

He hesitated. “Just one nephew.”

An idle smile lingered on his lips as his mind drifted, thinking about his cute rascal of a nephew; he hasn’t seen the kid since last spring. He wondered how much the little guy has grown, growing slowly into adolescence. The last holiday they spent together, it was way back in Easter, the boy had a radiant smile but melancholy eyes that grew more pronounced each day like a full moon in the dark.

Hakyeon bit his lip in worry, thinking about his nephew was at an age where his peers were either screaming or throwing dramatics at their parents and he . . . didn't have any.

“Hey, you okay?” Jaehwan touched his shoulder gingerly, seeing the creasing of Hakyeon's brows. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Nothing.” Hakyeon easily dismissed with a tight smile and a wave.

He turned around to not see the look on Jaehwan's face; he knew he wore his heart on his sleeve but for now, he wished that wasn't the case. He didn't like it when his emotions were easy to read. Remembering his nephew . . . and his sister and her husband, it was just not something he'd even want to _think_ about, even if it has been years since the accident.

“I'm okay.” He reassured Jaehwan lamely, not wanting to see the worried pout appearing on the younger's features.

“Okay….” Jaehwan trailed off with uncertainty.

Again, the silence settled between them again; still awkward but less stifling. Hakyeon busied his hands, fishing out his phone in compulsion as he turned on the screen, reading the time (‘7:42 pm’) and fought the urge to fidget. What was taking Hana so long?

“Hakyeon,” the younger called out and he turned, dread settling on the bottom of his stomach. “If you'd like, do you wanna come with me to the kindergarten?”

“No.”

If Jaehwan was surprised or offended by the abruptness of Hakyeon's answer, he didn't let it show.

“I mean,” Hakyeon feebly amended. “Sorry, Jaehwan but no thanks.”

“Nevermind.” Jaehwan shrugged. “Forget that I asked.”

Hakyeon instantly felt like he swallowed a bitter pill of guilt when Jaehwan nodded and turned fully back to the boxes, opening them and started to organize the stuff inside. He didn't hate the guy . . . He just felt strongly—

“Hakyeon?”

Relieved beyond measure, Hakyeon turned his heel and grinned at Hana, who stood at the doorway.

“Hey.” He made a beeline towards her.

Her eyes flickered from him to Jaehwan's back before turning back to him, narrowing slightly with skepticism. He gave the faintest of shakes with his head, mouthing the words _I'll explain later._ Her eyes narrowed further for a moment before Jaehwan turned around, smiling benignly as if nothing was amiss.

“Have fun!” Jaehwan waved at them, brightly.

“Get home safely, Jyannie!” She took a hold of Hakyeon by the elbow, gently tugging him through the doorway to leave. “See you.”

“Bye.” Hakyeon attempted a wave to make up for his earlier slip up

“Bye!” Jaehwan chirped.

He followed Hana out of the laboratory, descending down the stairs to the parking lot, letting himself be tugged by the arm. He hoped she hadn't misunderstood the earlier atmosphere between them as she pushed the doors open out of the faculty building, the evening chill brushed against their skin and ruffled their clothes.

He wished he had brought a scarf along with him.

“Did you fight with him or something?” Hana tried her best to keep the accusation light in her tone, slipping on some gloves from her pocket.

“No, I didn't.” He watched the dark cotton hugged her slender fingers, watching her wriggling them to fit.

“Tell me.” She extended her gloved hand at him and with the twitch of a smile, he gladly took it.

They moved towards his car underneath the darkening sky and for a fleeting moment, with her hand entwined around his own, his heart fluttered with a deep-rooted urge to stop her in her tracks, remove the wretched glove off her skin to kiss her hand and be opened to a whole world of new possibilities.

_‘No,’_ he thought to himself. Now was not the time . . . even though he could feel the urge burning inside him, igniting a fire in his blood for his heart to want to give into the chase, into the _longing,_ and take a leap of faith over the edge. When they reached the car, he opened the door for her and dashed to the driver's seat. As he slid the key into the ignition, he felt her hand gently touch his sleeve.

“Please tell me.” She prompted again.

He inhaled shakily. “I just may have let...my emotions get the best of me earlier. Just a tiny bit.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, her grip tightening slightly. “What happened?”

He shook his head. “It's nothing major. It's just…” He bit his lip, wondering if he was willing to share this piece of information. “...he was mentioning that he volunteers at the kindergarten nearby.”

“...yeah, he does. And?”

“Well, he… I guess him mentioning that reminded me of my own nephew.” He nervously admitted, running a hand down his nape.

Her eyes softened. “You miss him?”

“...and more.” He sighed, turning the key to make the engine roar. “But it's a really _long_ story.”

She let out a general ‘ah’ of understanding but said nothing more as he drove out of the parking lot. His radio automatically turned on with the engine, playing a familiar indie tune, drowning out the silence as they sped past traffic for a while, her hand casually on his shoulder.

Eventually, they stopped at a red light and were close to the restaurant before Hana shifted in her seat and asked, “Would you tell me if I asked you about the story of your nephew?”

He scratched his forehead, unsure how to answer . . . or if he was willing to talk about it. No one else knew about the accident outside of his immediate family and friends, not even his previous dates; he kept it a secret, perhaps too closely to his heart. It was difficult to try to explain to people how it shaped his viewpoint about color, much like what happened to Hongbin after what happened to his parents.

“To answer that, can I ask you something?”

Hana stared at him skeptically. “So ominous.” She noted but shrugged. “Sure, ask away.”

“Have you ever lost someone you really loved?”

She was stunned momentarily by the question. “Can't say I have.” She eventually admitted.

“Well…” He wasn't surprised but it wasn't something bad; the answer did make it feel like he was on a different dimension from her, from most people, with too few people who comprehend the gravity of it.

Pain . . . changed people.

The pain of losing someone important wasn't something every person was able to imagine.

“I'll tell you about it some other time.” He pressed down on the accelerator when the light turned green. “I promise.”

He flashed his most reassuring smile at her before he drove the next few minutes quietly, getting to their destination; it was a simple cafe they've been visiting as of late. The food was delicious, the setting was idyllic and very cozy for dates. He parked the car onto the curb, about to turn off the engine.

“Oh, I just remembered…” He recalled, snapping his fingers as he turned to Hana. “...you said you wanted to talk about something earlier?”

“Ah,” she fidgeted, fixing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I… uh…”

She bumped her pointer fingers together, unsure how to broach the topic. Hakyeon removed his hand from the key lodged in the ignition, staring at her with unwavering patience and a slight furrow between his brows.

“I was hoping we could talk about…us?”

His brows shot up but his gaze instantly softened. “What would you like to talk about us?”

His hand found hers, tracing a circle slowly on the gloved back, just below where a slip of her wrist was exposed. She laid her eyes onto the touch and so did he. An urge to brush his finger against her skin, prodding him to _do it do it do it_ against his better judgement.

No.

He cleared his throat, looking away and into her eyes, halting his finger.

“Just some stuff about us.” She clarified, gloved fingers circling around his wrist gently.

“What sort of stuff?” he echoed, curious yet composed.

Her eyes flitted, unsure where to look, and Hakyeon was worried she was perhaps about to start panicking. Before he could reach out to her, she slowly lifted her hand and his eyes followed. She pressed her gloved fingers against his mouth and he wondered, if she was shushing him how were they supposed to—

Without warning, she leaned in and planted a kiss atop her fingers and his heart skipped a beat. It thundered in his chest, his blood reverberating through his veins and ignited a fire. She pulled away as quickly as she leaned in, staring down timidly.

“ _That_ stuff about us.” She repeated.

“Oh.”

.

.

.

_They did go to the beach as promised._

_They left early in the morning when the sun was tinted pale pinks and navy as Hongbin drove the old car, windows rolled down and the wind brushing their hair. From the passenger seat, he let his father pick out the songs to play on the radio and they sat mostly in companionable peace as they drove out for an hour to the beach._

_He noticed how his father constantly slipped in and out of consciousness, drifting sleep and staying awake. When he was conscious, he stared out the window, looking at the sky as the day slowly brightened and it made Hongbin wonder if the old man missed seeing the hues and shades of color._

_“Here we are.” He announced as he parked the car at the curb._

_“Ah, I forgot… the wheelchair.” Hongbin stared into the car boot when he was about to unpack wheelchair and the picnic basket beside it._

_His father chuckled. “We don't have to go on the sand. Just taking a stroll along the edge would be fine, Bean.”_

_He pursed his lips but did not add anything more. He unfolded the wheelchair and carefully helped his father into it before he locked the car and off they went._

_They did nothing much afterwards; they ate breakfast that they'd wrapped from home, and listened to the waves crashing against the shore. Hongbin did talk about the university he was planning to take and mentioned that Wonshik was coming along with him, bent on applying to be his roommate._

_Hakyeon was already enrolled in the same university, although in a different course. His father listened attentively and Hongbin could almost picture his shrunken cheeks and body disappearing, eyes twinkling as a smile curled onto his lips._

_After breakfast, they took a stroll, keeping to the paved road that was quite a distance away from the edge of the water. The breeze was salty when they came up to a pier where the wood was sturdy, stained and covered in algae._

_“Up.” His father encouraged._

_He pushed the wheelchair onto the wooden slats and they got close to the edge, where the pier ended above dark waters, separated by worn wooden fencing._

_“Your mom loved the ocean.” His father steepled his fingers, eyes closing as he leaned back to inhale the breeze. “We used to go to this one beach for our anniversary before we had you. She had a thing about collecting seashells.”_

_Hongbin smiled, trying to picture an image of his parents—young, exuberant, perhaps only recently married—holding hands as they dipped their toes into the sand, giggling freely when it was a time their love was fresh and pure, untouched by sorrow._

_“Why don't you go collect some seashells, Bean?”_

_It seemed like a silly request._

_However, seeing the way his father looked tranquil, basking in the last embers of the dawn that made his face bloom from a cocoon of old age and troubles, Hongbin took off onto the sand and started looking. He wandered around for a while leisurely and pocketing the few pretty seashells he found._

_The other shells he found were either cracked or too small as he carried his sandals with the other hand with the cool sand between his toes. As the yellow sun slowly ascending from the horizon, he listened to the water where he planted his feet on the edge and felt his heart grow heavy. He felt a ghost of a pain he knew he was forced to carry his whole life: longing._

_Longing for more time._

_Longing for hope._

_He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting himself be engulfed in the moment, hoping the white noise of his worries and uncertainty would be washed away until all of it reduced to a steady cadence of his heartbeat._

_It was like standing at a crossroad on a piece of paper, one of his feet on a path with the other on another, moments from being torn apart, about to be ripped in half to the core._

_Suddenly, Hongbin felt the faintest touch of a hand touched his shoulder. Eyes startled open and accidentally dropping his sandals, he stumbled to try and turn around to see who it was but the the hand was soon replaced with a pair of arms, strong yet surprisingly gentle, that encircled his waist and halted his movement._

_Standing still, he felt the arms tightened around him and he was tugged back, pulled against something pleasantly firm as the cold of the blue waves crashed against his calves and feet. His heart leaped to his throat as a kiss pressed to the side of his cheek that made his heart race; it felt . . ._

_It felt familiar._

_It felt warm._

_Trying hard to keep breathing, he remained frozen in the white sand until he was squeezed again into the gentlest of a hug and something in his blood_ hummed _in content and his eyes fell shut, his breathing turned shaky as he felt another kiss, this time planted higher, closer to his eye and brought the first prickle of tears with his heart fluttering._

_He shouldn't give in, not this easily, but then there was a delicate voice, whispering into his ear. “Hey...” The wispy voice tugged at his heart, sweetly kind and lovely. He_ knew _this voice. “Please don't look so sad.”_

_Opening his eyes, he looked down at the hands around his waist, not intimidated or anxious about this person. He traced the elegant lines of the hand where the orange light of the sunrise kissed it and felt rather than heard a sigh released behind him at the simple touch and, giving into the tiniest instinct, he laced their fingers . . . together. They were together._

_“I've waited forever for you.” he murmured, leaning his head back against a shoulder._

_“I've searched forever for you.” Another kiss to his cheek, fonder than before and he felt safe._

_“You took a while.”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_Something in him strongly believed in this person's wipsy voice that was gentle like it could be swept by the wind. Relief washed over him._

They were together.

_“You're here now.” Hongbin whispered._

_“You're here too.”_

_He smiled. “Please don't ever leave me.”_

_“I won't.”_

_However, the arms around his waist began to unwind and the weight behind him slowly slid away. Confused, Hongbin turned around, only managing to glance at the sweetest smile, beautiful eyes gazing down at him and a hint of a whisper. “I'll find you again, my dearest.”_

_“What?”_

_When he blinked, everything . . . disappeared._

_The orange light vanished, the warmth in those eyes and the glimpse of a face that he was already forgetting like water slipping between his fingers, a perilous feeling like he’d just woken from a dream. The sand was dull now and so did the waters as he stumbled in panic, hand outstretched to the air, grasping at what was once beautifully his._

_His shoulders trembled as his knees lost their strength and he tumbled into the sand, tiny beads digging into his skin as he wheezed in a breath like a man drowning. His eyes stung and his cheeks were wet._

_He sobbed, only able to think how_ real _it felt._

_He wasn't dreaming, he can't have. The person was too solid, too sweet and too lovely to not be real. He didn't know whoever it was but they stole his heart away, left him with a gaping hole inside, raw and empty beyond words._

_“Come back.” he begged._

_What was that?_

_Was it a dream? Was it a hallucination? It felt so real, tangible._

_He swore he heard that voice before but now, as he clung desperately to the memory of it, he no longer remembered what they sounded like._

_He was lost; he wasn't sure how long it took for his strength to return to him. How was he able to feel pain over something he never had? That was unfair. He didn’t ask for it._

_Why?_

_No answer came to him as he kept choking, sobs spilling between the cracks of his self-control. The pain made him blind and deaf to anything else except the pain constricting his chest, twisting him over and over, damaging him beyond belief._

_It took a while for the pain to go away._

_When the suffocation subsided, he shakily got up to his feet. The sun was higher now, already burning the back of his neck and through the haze in his troubled mind, he suddenly remembered: Dad._

_He slipped his sandals on, almost washed away with the ocean, and sprinted back to the pier. As he got closer and tried to catch his breath again, he found the old man still on the pier. Roughly rubbing his tears away, he sniffed and climbed up onto the wooden slats, creaking lightly under his footfall._

_“Dad?”_

_His father was still sleeping, a serene smile on his face, looking the happiest Hongbin has ever seen him in days. He wiped at his nose, hoping he didn't look too disheveled as he stepped around, tapping at the older man's shoulder._

_“Dad, wake up.” He echoed. “We gotta go home.”_

_The older man did not twitch, face still upturned to the sky as if he was having the most pleasant dream and Hongbin almost loathed himself that they had to go. He tried tapping again, harder this time._

_“...dad?”_

_Again, no response. A chill ran down Hongbin’s spine._

_“Dad, wake up.”_

_His father never woke up again._

.

_._

_._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story has reached Angst / Melancholy Hours  
> i promise there'll be floof, sunshine and happiness in the future ... or will there? :>
> 
> i hope you guys liked reading from Taek's pov, it'll be interesting to see things are from his perspective ;)
> 
> forever and always, thank you for reading!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/beanedbybean)  
> i got a new [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/beanedbybean)! dont be shy to ask me anything~


	9. eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you do with years of unshared history together?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S HERE!
> 
> first, i wanna apologize how long this took to finish ;;u;;  
> i moved to another country in february for my masters and its been a whirlwind since then huhu  
> thank you for your patience and enjoy reading!  
> tw: really really emo thoughts  
> 

**.**

**.**

**.**

**. eight .** ****  


_‘Let's rearrange,_ _  
_ _I wish you were a stranger I could disengage.’_

 

— The Fray, ‘Over My Head (Cable Car)’

.

 

_Twenty-one year-old Taekwoon sighed as he stood on the edge of the dark waters._

_He knew he shouldn’t be out here by himself as the yellow warning signs indicated, littering all over the edge of the beach, but the party inside the chalet was sweltering hot, almost stifling, and he just wanted a moment’s peace from the noise._

_Hollering and rambunctious laughter rang clearly in the air from the chalet far behind him, warm waves tickling his toes as he took off his sandals and sat on the sand. The wind swept through his hair as he stared out into the vastness of the moonless sky with the infinite ocean before draining the last of the cheap booze in the red cup he was carrying, tasting the burn in his throat. However, as he swallowed, it didn’t wash away the heavy weight of loneliness settling inside him._

_He and the guys were here for a quick getaway to blow off some steam before exams were about to roll in so they rented a chalet for a weekend out as they had done almost every semester. Taekwoon had been playing table tennis with the others until Himchan brought in the liquor. The idea was harmless enough; nobody was planning on driving out and they did agree to just keep it indoors. No dares to attempt skinny-dipping in the ocean . . . again._

_Yongguk losing his swimming trunks in the water like the last time was something_ none _of them were_ ever _going to let him forget._

_However, after a few shots of tequila, Daehyun drunkenly suggested they play spin the bottle. Instead of waiting for everyone to start voting to play the game or not, he smacked a sloppy and loud kiss onto Youngjae’s cheek and they . . . well, they matched._

_It was hilarious when Taekwoon thought about it._

_The stupid look on Daehyun’s face and Youngjae’s shriek followed by the former suddenly clinging onto the latter so ferociously like an octopus, planting kiss after kiss on his reddened face uninhibitedly, until they stumbled onto the floor like fools in love. Everyone cackled at the sight of them but celebrated with cheers and raised a toast when Youngjae pulled Daehyun down to a kiss on the lips, tangled together, after skirting around each other for years._

_Soon enough, the whole chalet turned topsy-turvy._

_Daehyun and Youngjae couldn’t keep their hands off of each other and Yongguk was yelling at Jongup to stop trying to pickpocket Himchan’s wallet from his back pocket, who kept trying to do a headstand in the middle of the room. It was utter chaos, typical of these trips they go on, but Taekwoon found himself slowly no longer enjoying the thumping music in his head nor the cheap booze. After a while, he could no longer keep up with the laughs and quietly slid away._

_He was happy for them, truly he was._

_He just wished his heart hadn’t plummeted to the pit of his stomach halfway through the night._

_‘Nothing melodramatic about drinking booze on the beach and missing someone you;ve never met before,’ he told himself bitterly. ‘Absolutely not.’_

_He recalled many years ago when his parents told him about the tale of Shattered Bonds in his adolescence, a time when they deemed he was old enough to start trying to understand the magic that lived in his blood. ‘Two colored souls torn in life must reunite,’ he remembered them saying in his bedroom after all of his sisters fell asleep. ‘You’ll reunite with your soulmate soon. As long as you keep seeing color, it just means you’re going to find whoever they are and you’ll be together soon.’_

_They had said it with so much conviction, he believed them._

_He had been a naive optimistic kid to think that after they told him, he’d find his soulmate within the month. When the time ran up, he waited for another month . . . and another. When the year passed, he had hoped and searched for another year but now . . ._

_. . .  well now, here he was; alone, with an empty cup that couldn’t heal the cracks inside him._

_He placed the cup down, wishing he had something stronger to drink so that he didn’t have to nurse this incessant ache of longing over knowing his soulmate was out there somewhere, perhaps waiting as well, hoping the time separating them was drawing closer. Staring up at the inky sky, he counted the few dots of white and he raised his hand up, yearning for a shooting star for him to catch so he could make a wish for his soulmate to be here with him._

_He fell back onto his back, uncaring of the sand getting in his hair and closed his eyes to focus and breathe._

_As much fun as they were having on this weekend, Taekwoon wished he was back home. Not his uni home but home_ home. _He missed his mother’s cooking, having opted to spend his breaks at the campus, and he definitely missed the cats. Maybe he should get a cat one day._

_Loneliness always brought longing for company._

_Suddenly, he felt a presence approaching him._

_He waited for the instinct of alarm to kick in but . . . it didn’t come. He sensed no danger as whoever this person was settled beside him, feeling warmth radiate against his arm and the whistle of the wind quietened with the steadying cadence of his heart. He felt a shift, so close to him and he didn’t move_ . _Daring a sneak, there was a hand beside his own and it brought a compelling pull washing over him, almost alluring, to reach out and a tingle of anticipation for just_ one touch _._

_He didn’t know why he felt this way but he knew he didn’t want to feel forlorn._

_Hesitantly, he asked. “May...I?”_

_He turned and was blinded by the prettiest smile he has ever seen. “Sure, dearest.”_

_Giving into instinct, he slipped his hand between theirs and it shouldn’t feel right but it did; slotted perfectly between his like a promise of forever. He squeezed, heart soaring at the realization that it was smaller in his, precious and almost delicate, but such a_ good _fit. The sweetest laugh stunned him and he gave in, rolling onto his side to curve into an embrace that was so lovely._

_He felt something solid snuggling into his chest, the smell of shampoo and soap, and he laced his other arm around a surprisingly narrow waist, eliminating the space and concept of time between them as if he’d finally returned to a peaceful home . . . and he couldn’t feel happier._

_This was where he belonged._

_This was what he wanted._

_“I missed you.” His voice was barely a whisper. “So much.”_

_“I missed you too.”_

_This was where he wanted to be the most, holding onto his soulmate lovingly like this, sweet-smelling curls tickling the skin of his cheek. Giving into the faintest of temptation, he laid a kiss upon the crown and felt rather than heard a sigh of content as they nuzzled closer, sinking into this warm blanket together._

_“I love you.” Taekwoon whispered like a promise._

_“...do you really?”_

_Alarmed, he started to pull away but the hold on him grew tighter, denying him to see the face of his beloved hiding against his chest. He frowned, fingers carding up to comb through the luscious locks, as if they’d spent a day out in the sun, smelling of flowers and fresh grass._

_“Of course, I do.” He murmured, wanting to prove his words with affection. “You know I do.”_

_“What if I loved someone else?”_

_The words were a punch to his gut._

_“What if we never meet again? What would you do if that happened?”_

_Suddenly, he blinked and it was all gone._

_The pleasant warmth of his beloved shrunk in his very arms, crumbling like sand until he held nothing but the cold air between his fingers. The faint touch of his beloved's sunlight on his fingertips disappeared like a ghost of a memory, swept away with a chilling wind that made him become conscious that he was alone . . .  again. Dazed, he slowly pushed himself up and looked around. His cup was still lying beside him but there were traces of his own footprints, singular and unaccompanied; it just made him feel much lonelier._

_What if his soulmate_ had _found someone else?_

 _Taekwoon stared at the line of the horizon, the cold beginning to nip at his skin as he shivered under the stars that were witnesses to the truth dawning upon him. He tried to imagine it; the image of his soulmate laughing and holding hands with another faceless someone that wasn’t_ him. _It made his bones ache but the pretty smile widened with joy and love, not for him. He pictured himself watching afar, silence and longing keeping him barely afloat._

_‘What if I loved someone else?’ the words echoed in his head._

_A part of him—a tiny part but it existed nonetheless_ — _was bitter; he had so much love to give, had spent many restless nights thinking of what it’ll be like to finally meet the other half of his whole and be eager to give them everything he had until he had none left for himself. He wanted to make so many promises; happy ones where they’d work be whole again._

_However, as he took the cup with his hand and stared at it, he realized there was another part of himself, a bigger piece, was . . . conflicted._

_Time was not a luxury they had._

_They spent more than a decade apart._

_Ten years was an awfully long time . . . and the fact they haven’t found each other again must mean something in the grand scheme of things._

_He bit his lip at thinking about this; maybe they might never have the chance to be together if the stars decreed their paths would never crossed and he might spend more years looking while his soulmate wasn’t, already finding their happiness in someone else. It may have been unheard of but it was not impossible, considering he was in the minority to begin with . . . and he had no way to find any answers._

_Even as he begun to think that maybe he should be happy for them, he didn’t want to._

_Why? He thought angrily. Why did they have to be apart?_

_Did his soulmate think of him at all? Or did they accepted their fate of never meeting and have moved on? Had they decided that waiting for him wasn’t enough and they had truly settled with someone else?_

_Taekwoon wished on nights like these, as he reclined back onto the sand, he had a switch to shut off his thoughts._

.

.

.

 

_Knock! Knock knock!_

Hakyeon fidgeted in front of the door, shifting his weight anxiously from one foot to the other, and clenched his hands again and again, trying not to think too much of the dampness of his palms. He wished he wasn't such a sweaty nervous person but this was something major and he doesn't think he can hold it in any longer without telling a soul.

_Knock knock!_

He tried again, now positively shifting his weight from heel to the balls of his feet and already feeling slightly woozy. Maybe he shouldn't have wolfed down the blueberry bangle he had for lunch earlier in such a rush but—oh, for goodness sake!

 _Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock_ — _!_

Abruptly, the door swung open.

“What?” a harassed Wonshik snapped, thoroughly disheveled as if he just woke out of bed.

“...were you sleeping?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed, running a hand down his mouth, over his stubble.

“Why?” Hakyeon threw his hands up wildly. “It's noon on a _freaking_ Friday! I thought you told me you didn't have classes today!”

“Bean and I had to work on a presentation until five in _this_ morning and we both crashed and burned.”

“When's the presentation?”

If Wonshik had looked sour at being rudely awoken by Hakyeon's incessant knocking, he now looked murderous, which was intimidating even to Hakyeon. “They postponed it to next Monday. Sick fucks changing their minds on a whim....”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, we burnt the midnight oil for _nothing.”_ Wonshik yawned before backing up from the doorframe, letting Hakyeon be able to walk into the room. “What's with the visit? You usually call before coming.”

“Neither of you picked up your phones.” Hakyeon stepped inside, feeling the jitters return as he wrung his hands. “Besides, it's kinda…”

He paused, unsure how to describe it without possibly sounding like a fool. Did it seem right to talk about it? He always appreciated Wonshik being a great listener, always open to talking about stuff but . . . was he overreacting?

“Will it take long?” Wonshik rubbed at his eye. “Because I'm kinda hungry…”

“Sure, sure, we can go eat…” Hakyeon waved a hand nonchalantly, biting his bottom lip with uncertainty. “It'll probably take a while anyway...and don't wake Bin up.”

“Huh?”

He tiptoed closer to Wonshik's bedroom door, craning his neck to find Hongbin collapsed haphazardly on his bed, his leg dangling off the edge and his face squished against a pillow, drool falling from the corner of his mouth. _Well_ , Hakyeon stifled an amused puff, _that's not something you see everyday._

“What are you doing?” Wonshik moved closer, seeing Hakyeon start pulling out his phone from his pocket.

“I wanna get a picture of him drooling.” Hakyeon whispered, matter-of-factly. “For y'know… evidence because I can say he can look like an angel but also a piece of shit at the same time.”

Wonshik snorted. “Sleeping Poopy.”

Hakyeon burst out giggling. “Oh, my _—_ what the hell, Wonshik!”

“I’m just saying!” Wonshik threw his hands up in surrender, grinning. “Knock yourself out, Bean's a heavy sleeper if he's forced to stay up all night. By the way, _you're_ paying for lunch because of the interruption!”

“Yeah, yeah, go get ready!” Hakyeon swatted at Wonshik's butt. “I can practically smell your breath, you animal.”

“Bite me.”

“Considering it!”

“Gross _—,”_

 _Knock knock!_

Hakyeon blinked, hand suspended mid-air as they both eyed the door.

Groaning, Wonshik started to drag his feet towards the door. “Who the hell could that be?”

“Wonshik-hyung! I got your shoes!”

Hakyeon turned to the younger in surprise but Wonshik missed the look, already heading towards the front door, clasping a hand onto the silver knob to turn it to reveal the young lad who was sipping loudly on a smoothie with a box propped against his hip. When Sanghyuk looked up from his drink, he grinned with surprise at the sight of Hakyeon.

“Oh, hello, hyung!” His smile was lopsided before he turned to Wonshik, assessing his features. “Please don’t tell me you went out drinking last night.”

Wonshik’s face was pinched with frustration. “Excuse you but I _do_ have some resistance to alcohol.”

“But not enough tolerance.” Hakyeon muttered under his breath.

Whipping his head back, Wonshik narrowed his eyes skeptically. “What did you say, hyung?”

“That you’re a model student, darling.” Hakyeon replied airily with a dismissive wave.

Sanghyuk chortled but extended the box towards Wonshik. “Here you go, thanks for letting me borrow them.”

“No problem, kid.” He took the box and sidestepped from the doorframe.

“Hey, Sanghyuk.” Hakyeon called out, gesturing at him to come over. “Come look at this mess.”

Wonshik rolled his eyes with mirth, letting the youngest walk into the threshold of the living room before he walked off to the bathroom to refresh himself and brush his teeth. Toeing his shoes off at the front door, Sanghyuk approached Hakyeon where he managed to hear the faintest clink of the older’s phone going off and there was indeed a picture of Hongbin who just rolled over, lying on his back like a starfish with his mouth hanging wide open.

A snort escaped Sanghyuk’s lips. “Oh, boy.”

“Blackmail. Sweet, sweet blackmail.”

“You came all the way here just to take incriminating photos of Hongbin for blackmail.” Sanghyuk remarked, letting out a snort of laughter. “That’s low, hyung.”

“Actually, no, this was simply coincidence! I came here to talk to Wonshik about something—oh good lord, I nearly forgot!” Hakyeon recoiled from the recall. “Right, I was supposed to talk to him about…”

His mind reeled at an idea springing in his head and he slowly turned to the Seer, who paused too with eyebrows raised in confusion, waiting for him to finish his response. If Sanghyuk was able to see colors off of people who have been matched, could he possibly…?

“Sanghyuk,” he carefully began, voice dropping low, barely above a whisper. “May I ask something...about your ability? If that's okay?”

Blinking in surprise, Sanghyuk merely stared at him with doubt. Hakyeon bit his lip, wondering if he wasn’t pushing his luck by talking about the younger’s ability right in the middle of the apartment where Wonshik could return at any moment or Hongbin waking up on them in mid-conversation. He glanced towards the direction of the bathroom where they heard a tap running, water splashing and Wonshik loudly brushing his teeth.

When the Seer did not give a response, Hakyeon added. “Only if you’re comfortable to talk about it.”

“Hyung…”

“I know you probably don’t like to talk about your ability and I _did_ badger it out of you the last time, I’m sorry about that.” Hakyeon felt dread earlier return as he explained and Sanghyuk’s gaze grew heavy onto him, compelling him to fiddle with his thumbs. “It’s just… I…”

Seeing Hakyeon’s trepidation must’ve eased Sanghyuk’s own skepticism because he smiled, gently. “Yeah, sure, you can ask me anything, hyung.”

Hakyeon wanted to give him a hug, not only for his willingness to be honest about his ability but also for how _cute_ he was.

All the nasty rumors Hakyeon grew up hearing about Seer ability; how they gave vague ‘clues’ to those seeking their soulmates and willing to pay for their ‘services’, having them run in circles and, on severely unlucky cases, disappear without a trace or trail, he couldn’t reconcile them with the junior before him, boyish looks lingering and sweet smile.

“This is probably going to sound weird but,” Hakyeon huffed with distress. “...is it true that Seers can actually _see_ soulmates? Like, they see someone matched and can see who their partner is?”

“Ah,” Sanghyuk understood. “You mean, if Seers are able to see the red string tied between them?”

He was shocked to say the least. “Yes, that’s exactly what I meant.”

“Well, no, hyung.” Sanghyuk admitted, honest and earnest, eyes wide like a puppy. “Seers actually _don't_ have that ability. We really only just see color of those who are matched, nothing more.”

“How about people who haven’t been matched?” Hakyeon’s mind reeled at the possibilities.

“What do you mean?” Sanghyuk’s brows furrowed.

“If you can’t see the red string tying between the matched ones, how about the ones unmatched?” Hakyeon rephrased, hoping that his words made sense. “Maybe...you can see _only_ the red string before they touched?”

“Well, no.”

A tiny part inside Hakyeon deflated immediately. “Nothing?”

“Only the people who _are_ matched.” Sanghyuk echoed, more eloquently. “Not their matches nor who they’re about to be matched with.”

“Ah,” the tiny sinking feeling inside him dropped like an anchor to the pit of his stomach. “Well, that’s…”

He wasn’t sure what to feel. Frustrated? Reassured?

Sure, maybe he _had_ hoped there was another way to find out if he and Hana were rightfully matched but alas, magic was never sloppy like that. He sighed, his traitorous mind suddenly seeing the deep, profound regret in Minhyuk’s eyes, devoid of the usual stars that he’d fallen for, and the crushing weight of their woven red string snapping from the truth that one evening.

He’d have to go through that . . . again.

“Hyung?” Sanghyuk reached out carefully, hand on Hakyeon’s shoulder. “Hyung, what’s wrong?”

“I…” he struggled, unsure how to put it into words. “Hana and I have been talking…”

Understanding dawned on Sanghyuk’s face as his lips curled into an ‘o’. “You guys are planning to see if you both matched.”

Hakyeon nodded. “To be very honest, I’m quite scared. The thought of it actually terrifies the shit out of me because I tried to match with Minhyuk a few years ago, someone who I used to date for a very long time and although I don’t know Hana for very long, oh _god,_ I’m probably rushing this and she’s also Wonshik’s friend—,”

His voice quickened as the prickly fear bounced inside him like a restless ball of needles. This was not a good idea. Sensing his distress, Sanghyuk gripped his hand and Hakyeon clamped his mouth shut, trying not to succumb to the thundering in his chest and squeezed the younger’s hand in return to ground him back to the current situation.

“Things are gonna be okay.” Sanghyuk reassured him, softly.

“I don’t know, Hyuk-ah… I just—,” he pursed his lips, letting out a shaky breath. “I was hoping there was a way to prepare myself unlike the last time.”

“You’ll be okay, hyung—,”

“Okay, I was gone for two minutes.” Wonshik interrupted, a towel draped over his head with water dripping down his unshaven chin. “ _Two minutes_ just to brush my teeth only to find you two are holding hands in front of my bedroom where Bean is sleeping like a mangled starfish. What on Earth did I just miss?”

Caught off-guard by Wonshik’s appearance, they simultaneously dropped their hands.

“Oh, nothing.” Sanghyuk lied, unconvincingly.

Wonshik narrowed his eyes suspiciously between both of them. “Right….”

“I was talking to him…” Hakyeon started to explain, hand waving carelessly as his mind continued to reel with the anxiety in his blood. “...about me and Hana thinking about matching soon. Really go into it. Maybe at our next date.”

Wonshik’s eyebrows shot up instantly, perplexed. “ _Already?”_

The last vestige of Hakyeon’s crippling self-control deteriorated. “Oh, god, I _am_ rushing it.”

Panic bled into his veins and Hakyeon was compelled to start pacing, wringing his hands. “You were right, Wonshik, you were abso-fucking-lutely right. I am an idiot, I should’ve just listened to you in the first place—,”

“That’s not what I told you the last time.” Wonshik reminded, hands up to grab onto Hakyeon’s shoulder to stop him moving. “Hyung, calm down, we can talk about it over some food—,”

“What was I thinking?” Hakyeon bounced on his feet, jittery and frazzled, feeling his heart racing. “I shouldn’t have been so eager to chase but now that the possibility is right before me and here I am, chickening about it like a delusional fool. What if we don’t match again? What’s gonna happen after that?”

“Hyung—,”

“Things aren’t going to be the same. Just like they did with Minhyuk!”

“Hyung, you and Minhyuk were great together—,”

“But we _didn’t_ match, Wonshik.”

“Hyung, please listen to me.” Taking Hakyeon’s shaky hands between his, Wonshik patiently reassured. “You can’t compare what you had with Minhyuk to what you now have with Hana. It isn’t the same. She’s not him and you weren't the same you from back then. Things won’t be the same.”

“What if they’re gonna be?” Hakyeon squeezed his hands. “What if I kiss her and we don’t see color?”

“You’ve haven’t known her for very long.”

“Won’t make a difference if I be with her for a few more months, maybe _years_ , only out find out we’re unmatched. Why put her and myself through that wait?”

“You don’t know for sure _if_ you and her aren’t a match.”

Hakyeon bit his own tongue, hating how he was going in circles and Wonshik was pulled into the messy whirlpool of his thoughts. He wasn’t sure what to do, feeling Wonshik’s calloused thumbs run over his knuckles, an attempt to soothe that did little to actually calm the storm inside him. Was he a fool for thinking this way?

Was he overreacting?

People matched all the time and some were lucky to be with their soulmates, some were not.

Swallowing, Hakyeon murmured. “What if its because I’m not good enough to be matched with anyone?”

The silence cut through so intensely in that split second, they’d hear a pin drop.

“Hyung....” Wonshik’s voice, sweet and kind, made him feel more contrite. “Is this really what it’s about?”

Eyes softening immediately, Wonshik tugged him and he became pliant, letting himself be pulled into a hug, one he didn’t feel like he deserved at all. His heart pricked with a deep profound sadness, his traitorous mind thinking why couldn’t he have just been _lucky_ and matched with his best friend, Wonshik? That would’ve been a lifetime of ease and absence of heartache but alas, that was not how their stars were written.

“I don’t know, Wonshik.”

He really didn’t.

After he had talked about the possibility with Hana on their last date, it was what his mind has been reeling at, even if he wished it hadn’t. It was exhausting, feeling a constant nag of morbid curiosity to know whether this race, this silly race to find out the person on the other end of his red string, was going to end but so far he’d tumbled and fell, time and time again, unsure where the end was.

Wonshik squeezed him again. “Hakyeon, you are your own person. You have your own value. Your happiness doesn’t solely tie in to whether you have found your soulmate or not.”

Hakyeon sighed, wondering why fate wasn’t simple.

Why couldn’t things about this ambiguous magic of color just be _simple?_

He thought mournfully over Hongbin’s old scars inflicted by others; his own broken pieces caused by heartaches and wasn’t meant-to-bes. Wonshik pulled away, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. “You _aren’t_ alone, okay? You have me, you have Bean. You still have your family. Finding your soulmate isn’t the _only_ definition of your happiness or your worth.”

Sighing, he wished he had Wonshik’s resolve, always the constant voice of rationale.

Goodness, he was the oldest out of them yet here he was, comforted by his best friend. Hakyeon hoped one day he wouldn’t be a burden like this to Wonshik in any way. He had to get his head together and put his worries to rest. Nodding, he smiled weakly, “...okay.”

“Cool.”

Patting his shoulder, Wonshik pulled away. Unexpectedly, his stomach rumbled loudly in the silence of his dorm and he pursued his lips at the timing. “Ah…”

Hakyeon chuckled. “Let’s get you some food, you overworked zombie.”

“Food always solves everything.” Wonshik nodded solemnly. “ _Everything.”_

The older grinned, thinking that yeah, he liked that idea very much. Overthinking burnt up too much fuel and he was already feeling the first stirrings of hunger inside him. When he turned, Sanghyuk smiled with uncertainty and Hakyeon felt bad, hoping he hadn’t made the younger uncomfortable for that display of nerves.

“Sorry about that, I was pretty...restless.” Hakyeon apologized.

“It’s okay, hyung.” Sanghyuk waved nonchalantly. “I do agree with Wonshik-hyung. You’ll be okay.”

“Was that what you two were talking about when I was brushing my teeth?” Wonshik gestured between the two of them.

“Yeah,” it was half the truth anyway, Hakyeon thought. “But enough of that or else I’m gonna start panicking again. Or worse, I might even start crying and it’s not even the pretty kind.”

It was a feeble attempt at a joke but they chuckled nonetheless and Hakyeon was glad for the reprieve. Wonshik murmured something about how he should probably go get ready now and turned to Sanghyuk.

“Do you want to join us for breakfast, Hyuk-ah?”

Sanghyuk blinked. “Uh… I don’t wanna impose. I came only to return Wonshik-hyung’s shoes.”

“Eh, why not?” Wonshik shrugged. ‘If you’re lucky, Hakyeon might even pay for yours too.”

“What am I? A piggy bank?” Hakyeon deadpanned.

“Yes.”

With that, he reached out to smack at Wonshik but his best friend slid away, cackling, and his hand missed entirely and only hit air. Rolling his eyes as Sanghyuk chuckled at their antics, Wonshik walked into his bedroom to change into more decent clothes.

“Not gonna wake him up?” Hakyeon asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Nah, let him sleep.” Wonshik tugged off his shirt, tossing it into the hamper to pull out a newer one. “I’ll just buy him something on our way back because he’s gonna be a lazy butt and won’t cook for himself.”

“That’s kinda sweet.” Sanghyuk offhandedly remarked.

Hakyeon smirked. “Didn’t you guys nearly burnt down the kitchen the last time you tried to cook?”

They both crackle at Wonshik’s withering glare. However, as Hakyeon waited for the younger to change out of his jammies, he can’t help but think how lucky they were to be friends.

 

.

.

.

 

_The funeral was as quiet as his mother’s grave._

_Hongbin stood on the sand of the beach, hands pocketed as the wind caressed his skin as he stared out at the golden hues of the sunset on the water. His feet were bare and he was only in a thin shirt and shorts, skin burnt where he’d stood in the light. In the silence, he vowed to never to return to the pier where his father slept peacefully for eternity._

_This was a different beach altogether but his heart still ached with every wave crashing against the rocks; maybe some wounds would probably never heal._

_Perhaps he shouldn’t even have chosen to come to the beach in the first place but grief hadn’t been kind to his head nor his shattered piece of a heart. A few paces away, Hongbin could heard Hakyeon talking to Wonshik in carefully quiet tones, undoubtedly keeping a distance for his benefit. He greatly appreciated it. He wasn’t up to talking much these days and they knew not to overwhelm him, which also made him guilty almost like he had made them walk on eggshells around him._

_The past week had been tumultuous._

_When his father never woke up again on the pier, Hongbin didn’t know what to do._

_He had blindly reacted to the first thing that sprung to his mind, which was to ring Hakyeon up. He found a nearby payphone with his heart in his throat and told Hakyeon where he was. It had been the shortest phone conversation he had and Hakyeon said nothing except a simple ‘I’ll be there.’ He arrived less than an hour later with Wonshik in tow and Hongbin blacked out on the sand before he was even able to greet them._

_He only remembered bits and pieces later. Hakyeon’s family helped with the arrangements and Wonshik brought Hongbin to his house. He didn’t cry at his own house when he returned to change into his suit nor did he cry at the funeral home where his father’s portrait stood surrounded by wreaths of lovely flowers. He stood before distant relatives, unseeing as faces of pity gave their condolences to the orphan he now was._

_He did not cry when he was given the urn; he did not cry when his two friends hugged him as he sat in the guest bedroom of Hakyeon’s house before he ultimately told them that he wanted to see the ocean one last time._

_Even though they were hesitant and did not understood his choice (neither did himself), they drove out here anyway, in time for the sunset._

_He did not cry._

_He didn’t want to._

_He didn’t know how long he was going to keep at this._

_After all the roaring emotions inside him for the past few weeks, apathy was irrevocably stable. It was grounding him to not feel anything when his body was used to being restless and anxiety ate at his bones._

_It was numb but also liberation._

_‘Promise me you won't deny yourself that greatest gift life will have to offer,’ the words turned in his head._

_His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry, dad.”_

_He started walking, heading towards the edge of the beach, further from them until their hushed whispers were swept with the wind. They didn’t follow him nor he gave them any indication if he was going to go far. He was simply existing like on auto-pilot. His father’s urn was in the car and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Scattering his ashes probably would’ve been cathartic but it was still too soon._

_He did wished the noise in his head would shut up._

_As he walked, the terrain ascended until he stood to where there was a barrier cliff of rocks against the water. He walked up, slipping off his sandals and ignored the yellow warning sign planted a few feet away. As he stepped onto the rocks, damp and slightly slippery, he stood on the edge where he saw sharp rocks damp from the waves crashing upon them again and again. The orange of the sunset was almost blinding at the horizon, blending with the pinks and purples that reminded him the world was wicked yet beautiful._

_He looked down and thought that it looked like quite a fall._

_“Please.”_

_He was startled, moving from the edge, whipping his head at the gentle voice behind him._

_He barely managed to take a few steps away from arms enveloped him into a hug. It was the same embrace from_ before, _he could tell. A touch that brought comfort, the kind that made his heart flutter but he also remembered how it easily slipped away._

_Bile rising up to his throat, Hongbin squirmed way slowly, trying not to dwell too much on how briefly he had felt secure and protected and . . . loved._

_“You shouldn’t be here.” He croaked, tears threatening to spill._

_An elegant finger came up to brush the wetness brimming at his eyes and, like he’d been burned, Hongbin fiercely turned away and cursed his damn heart for_ aching _for the lovely touch. No, he can’t give himself easily like before. He had no energy left and he didn’t know how long the hole inside him would consume him whole._

_“I promised I’d find you, dearest.”_

_“Don’t call me that!” he bellowed._

_To his regret, he blinked and his tears sprung forth, trailing down his cheeks like warm rivers he couldn’t hold back anymore. Beautiful feline eyes turned to his face, seeing the proofs of his pain, and he couldn’t meet the agony in their gaze; he must’ve looked pitiful._

_“I want to find you. I don’t want you to be alone.”_

_A puff escaped Hongbin, acidic in his lungs. “It’s better to be alone.”_

_“Please…”_

_“Don’t you think it’s funny?” Hongbin choked, roughly wiping at his damp cheek. “People are afraid to be alone…but I’m not.”_

_“Why?”_

_He took an interest in his hands, which he found were shaking. “People don’t want to be alone because they don’t want to live with the worst possible version of themselves that could exist. That’s why they cling onto others, tolerate with other people’s baggage...why they’d rather do everything than_ be _alone.”_

 _“I_ —,”

_“I’m not afraid because I’m already at my worst.” Hongbin gritted his teeth. “Can’t get any worse than being an orphan.”_

_“Please, I need_ —,”

_“Be happy with someone else.” Hongbin’s knees were threatening to turn into jelly. He had to get away from here before he lost his nerve, already feeling his walls about to crumble to succumb to the alluring song of this . . . whoever or whatever this was. This felt too vivid to be a dream, almost as if he was dreaming with his eyes wide open. “You won’t be happy with me. You never will. I’d be miserable to you and I refuse to be defined by what we’re supposed to be because all it got was me punished and tortured.”_

_The grief-stricken eyes were like a mirror to his own soul. “....I’m sorry.”_

_Hongbin trembled. “I hope you didn’t experience the same pain that I had while growing up.”_

_“So… what does that mean for us?”_

_It wasn’t a difficult question to answer, one Hongbin answered with resounding conviction._

_“I don’t want you.”_

_There was profound hurt in those eyes, soft and brown like chocolate and honey, but Hongbin didn’t want to back down, standing defiant as the rocks withstanding the ocean waves below him._

_“I wish we were different. I wish that we hadn’t let go that first time.”_

_Hongbin felt a ghost touch of a hand touching his, skin tingling to lace their fingers together again. He almost wanted to give it, they were so close and they’d have this moment together . . . but this wasn’t real. This was just a shadow of his soulmate._

_Maybe this was a way of the magic punishing them; allowing them to see the things they could’ve have but didn’t. It was cruel._

_“We would’ve been good together in a different lifetime.”_

_“But we aren’t.” Hongbin said._

_For a fleeting moment, Hongbin almost felt . . . sorry._

_He felt sorry for both of them. If he saw this, did his soulmate see him too? If they did, he wondered what image they saw of him. He wanted to think of how happy they could’ve been, deeply in love and their bond entwined tightly but he did not dare to. It would’ve hurt him too much to think of what they could’ve had together if only fate had been kinder to both of them. Did his soulmate’s heart break too when all of these touches they’ve shared were just drops of rain evaporating on pavement, leaving no traces behind?_

_He felt sorry for both of them._

_“Goodbye.” he whispered. “Please don’t find me again.”_

_He walked away, leaving his heart behind and he wished for nothing else in the world that he wasn't such a puppet of the stars. He was losing his mind and now thinking he was something that he once had hoped belonged to his. Breaking into a run, he got off the rocks and back onto the sand, dashing. back to Hakyeon and Wonshik were still talking. However, as soon as he was near and they saw his face, concern was written all over their faces but Hongbin didn’t care._

_“Hongbin_ — _,”_

_Before Wonshik could finish, Hongbin crashed into them, both of his arms winding tightly around both of their waists._

_This was safe._

_This was_ enough.

_He chose this and he’d gladly keep Wonshik and Hakyeon. They meant more to him than anything else now and he wasn’t going to lose his mind over any more what-ifs of the magic lens he wore. They stumbled slightly in surprise at the sheer weight of his relief but held steadily onto him._

_“I-I don’t know what I saw….” Hongbin’s voice was shaky as his tears flowed. “I don’t know_ who _I saw.”_

_“Hongbin, what...” Hakyeon slipped an arm around his middle, worried at the younger’s mumbling, thinking perhaps they should’ve have left him out of their sight in the first place. “What happened? Did something go wrong?”_

_He wanted to forget those eyes, lovely and calling for him. “I swear it’s like I’m losing my mind.”_

_“Hey, hey, hey, calm down….” Wonshik gently patted his back when they both heard sobbing. “Easy there, Bean. We got you.”_

_They all held onto each other until Hongbin’s knees finally gave out. As they slowly lowered him onto the ground, he let out a gruff chuckle at his lack of strength. He decided that maybe now that he was alone, he’d be able to find peace for himself._

_“You okay?” Hakyeon finally asked when Hongbin had stopped hiccupping._

_Hongbin smiled weakly. “Y-yeah.”_

_“Oh, jeez…” Wonshik brushed the tears gently from his face, his eyes glassy too. “You nearly scared us.”_

_“I’m sorry.” He sat back on his leg, wiping at his cheeks._

_“You said you saw something or someone.” Hakyeon’s fingers were combing through his hair, tender and soothing. “Who was it? We didn’t see anyone else on this beach.”_

_“I think it was my soulmate.”_

_“WHAT?”_

_He nearly toppled over from the unison of their outburst. Mumbling hurried apologies, they held onto his hands now, Wonshik with his left and Hakyeon with his right, and shot him panicked looks. Chuckling at how frightened they look, he smiled back reassuringly. “It wasn’t really them… It was but...it wasn’t real.”_

_“How’s that...possible?” Wonshik wondered in amazement._

_“I don’t know, honestly.”_

_“But what did they want?” Hakyeon patted his cheek in concern. “There had to be a reason why they appeared.”_

_“Truthfully, I don’t know.” Hongbin admitted. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen them.”_

_He explained what happened the last time; the further he talked about it, the more it hurt him to see the sympathetic looks on their faces. He really wished he didn’t tell them but maybe . . . just maybe . . . he’d bury his secret today. He won’t ever talk about it if he could help it._

_“I didn’t know soulmates could do that.” Wonshik exhaled slowly. “That’s kinda messed up.”_

_“Like a game of tug-o-war in the worst sense.” Hongbin agreed._

_“Did you_ actually _see them? Like, you saw their face and could recognize them?”_

_Somehow, Hongbin could already tell Hakyeon was trying to mask the little gleam of hope in his eyes but something inside of him wished fate had been kinder to Hakyeon too. The rift in his family was a different kind to Hongbin’s but on the matter of soulmates, they stood on the edge of the same cliff; Hongbin wouldn’t take the plunge but Hakyeon probably would._

_“No, I didn’t. It’s like a dream...dreaming while I’m awake.” Hongbin sighed._

_“What did they want?” Wonshik asked cautiously._

_Hongbin hesitated._

_“They didn’t say.”_

_They both shared a look._

_Hongbin wondered if they could detect the lie but he didn’t want to think about it anymore. That part of the truth still felt too raw to be exposed, a wound he didn’t want to reopen yet. It felt so much like he’d parted with a half of himself and he wondered if he’d continue to feel this hollow for the rest of his life._

_“But I said goodbye.”_

 

_._

_._

_._

 

The cafe they chose was quiet, smelling spectacularly of baked pastries and sweets where they had settled down at a table with their food.

“Hold on, I gotta go to the washroom.” Hakyeon excused himself.

He wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin and left the table Sanghyuk’s gaze following him with mild concern, mindfully nibbling on his ham sandwich that the oldest bought for him. Wonshik had ordered a latte, cream sitting on the curve of his upper lip and munching down a chicken mushroom omelette heartily. The blueberry muffin he ordered for Hongbin sat in the middle of the table in a paper bag.

“Do you think he's going to be okay?” he asked Wonshik.

Wonshik’s hand suspended mid-air, cup barely raised at the abruptness of the question. “...Hakyeon-hyung?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Wonshik gently placed his cup down. “Truthfully, I don’t know.”

Sanghyuk blinked. “Oh.”

“Well, I would say he is a fighter but he took the break-up with Minhyuk pretty hard. It left him in kind of a bad shape because they really had wanted to match.” He explained. “I think after his sister, he may have thought the only good thing he could have next is a soulmate. I don’t blame him for thinking that way, people make a big deal out of being single or unmatched like it’s something bad.”

“True.” Sanghyuk nodded solemnly. “It’s crippling, like people say you’re not worth it until you’ve found the person at the end of your red string.”

Wonshik chuckled wryly. “You’re unmatched?”

“Hmm.” The youngest hummed in affirmative. “I’m not really looking for anyone.”

Thoughtfully, Wonshik nodded. “But you did seem fixated with Hongbin some time ago.”

Sanghyuk nearly choked on his spit at that, almost forgetting that Wonshik doesn’t know his secret. He’d gotten comfortable with Hakyeon knowing and when he grinned at Wonshik, the older looked at him in surprise “That’s because I’m a Seer, hyung.”

“Eh?”

Instead of disgust or horror he’d feared, Wonshik looked utterly shocked and something inside Sanghyuk felt better at such a reaction. Ducking his head slightly at having caught some attention, Wonshik leaned closer, clutching his hot drink between his hands and whispered to Sanghyuk almost conspiratorially. “So you know Hongbin’s been touched.”

“Yeah.”

“Ah, that explains things.”

“You seem to take this awfully well.” Sanghyuk mused. “Hakyeon-hyung was very skeptical after I told him.”

“Well,” he scratched his head sheepishly. “I think that’s because my sister is a Seer as well.”

“What?” Sanghyuk’s brows shot up; he wasn’t expecting _that._ “Really?”

“Yeah, she is. I know that Seers have a bad reputation for being scammers and cheaters...and my sister keeps her sight a secret too.” Wonshik shrugged. “No one outside of our immediate family know, not even our relatives, in case they got nosy because people love to do that.”

Somehow, it made Sanghyuk feel slightly . . . better to hear that. Hakyeon had been right to say he could trust Wonshik and this was turning out more than he ever hoped for.

“Besides, my parents never taught us to put a lot of value into the matter of soulmates. They aren’t matched soulmates but they had us and we turned okay.” Wonshik took a sip of his drink

“That’s...kinda amazing.” Sanghyuk admitted in awe and also kind of sweet that Wonshik’s parents chose commitment and love over blind fate.

The tips of Wonshik’s ears darkened. “We’re just okay.”

Chuckling, Sanghyuk finished his sandwich and wiped his fingers clean, relishing the crisp taste of the buttered toast on his tongue. They sat in silence and he was already feeling significantly lighter, the burden in his chest relieved, thinking that his captain had been right; food solved everything….well, almost everything. “Hakyeon-hyung told me to trust you too, hyung.”

Wonshik’s eyes widened slightly. “Why?”

Sanghyuk shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure.”

They shared a smile. 

“Did he ask you to tell Hongbin?”

Sanghyuk blinked and slowly nodded. “...ah, yes. He did.”

“Don’t overthink it, kid.” Wonshik smiled at him. “It’s not going to be a big deal. There are worse horrors than being punished for seeing color without knowing who your soulmate is.”

Sanghyuk blinked, curious to ask what these horrors were but as Wonshik glanced away to the window, he realized maybe it wasn’t his place to know yet. Maybe Hongbin has seen such horrors. Yeah, he knew that but . . . _what exactly?_

Figuring that he might or might not find out soon enough, Sanghyuk contemplated about buying another sandwich for himself but he caught the sight of Hakyeon returning to their table, beaming brightly, a contrast to how he’d been earlier. Worrying his bottom lip, he hoped whatever outcome of their match was, it’d be a happy one for them

“Wonshik-hyung knows I’m a Seer.” Sanghyuk simply announced.

Hakyeon looked briefly between the both of them. “I hope it’s not like because I forced you or something, Hyuk-ah, that wasn’t my intention.”

Sanghyuk waved a hand nonchalantly. “You think too much, hyung.”

Wonshik chuckled. “I agree with that.”

“Aw, I knew you guys would get along!” Before they got to move out of his reach, he had both arms looped around them each and squeezed them into a quick, bumpy hug. They groaned slightly at this abrupt attack.

“What do you mean we ‘would get along’? We’re on the same soccer team.” Wonshik tried to squirm away from Hakyeon’s touch.

Just as quickly as he held onto them, Hakyeon released them and sat back down onto his seat. “Hush, you know what I meant.”

Sanghyuk rolled his eyes with fond exasperation but sat back, relaxing as he looked down at their table.

“Okay, now that we’re already mentioning this…” he started. “...I perhaps should also mention that Taekwoon-hyung is also touched by color.”

Both of them turned to him with raised eyebrows. “Oh?”

“And he’s like _not subtle_ about it.”

“How?” Hakyeon asked.

“He’s colorful, like vibrantly colorful.” Sanghyuk tried to explain, wondering if they understood where he was getting at with their limited sight of color. “He’s got pink hair that’s fading to blonde and his clothes are never _not_ contrasting. He’s like a rainbow on two ridiculously long legs.”

Wonshik turned to Hakyeon. “Hongbin would see that, wouldn’t he?”

“He’d be curious, yeah, but you said that he was flirting at the party?” Hakyeon remarked.

“Well—,” Wonshik croaked, raising his hands exasperatedly. “—I wouldn’t really know because I forgot to ask him!”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Start investigating, detective!” Hakyeon exclaimed.

“Whatever happened with keeping your nose out of Hongbin’s business?”

“You can’t tell me that you’re not the least bit curious!”

“Of course, I am!” Wonshik whined.

Sanghyuk chuckled, watching the two go at each other.

“It doesn’t hurt to ask.” Wonshik scoffed lightly and mumbled something like ‘ _good luck getting it out of Hongbin’._ “Just talk about Taekwoon-hyung to him. Nudge a little, here and there.” Sanghyuk bit his lip. “How do you think Hongbin-hyung would react if I told him that I could see color off him?”

Hakyeon shrugged. “Truthfully, I don’t know but if he was okay with it, you could probably nudge him about what he thinks about Taekwoon.”

“Nosy.” Wonshik drawled in singsong.

Hakyeon chucked a plastic fork at him and it hit him squarely between the eyes.

Sighing at the idiosyncrasy of them easily switching from affectionate to snappy at each other like this, Sanghyuk took a breath through the nose. “Okay, I mean, I already told you both and you’re his best friends. Doesn’t that mean I should tell him too?”

“Probably. We can’t guarantee how he’ll take it. He can be sensitive.” Hakyeon offered.

“Maybe we should give him more credit.” Wonshik drawled. “The guy has felt worse.”

A thoughtful look crossed Hakyeon and he ducked, almost guiltily. “True.”

Worrying his bottom lip, Sanghyuk said. “Well, okay then, I’ll just have to find the right time to say it again.”

 

.

.

.

 

Hongbin hummed as he walked down the street down to his favorite bakery.

Tugging his jacket closer to ward off the chilly air, he realized he probably shouldn’t be spending money on delicious yet overpriced bread so frivolously, especially not after the free muffin he got from Wonshik earlier, but the deadline for his assignment submission was coming soon. For once, he just needed the convenience of prepared food, not having the time (nor the brain cells) to cook something decent for himself.

The last time he attempted cooking, he nearly burnt the kitchen down with Wonshik.

It was something they vowed to never try again, even if they were starving in the apartment. As he walked down the familiar path towards his campus where he knew the bakery would be, there was a flash of yellow that caught his eye.

His steps halted as he stared at the campus' news bulletin board.

It used to be covered with old and outdated posters from previous semesters but now in their place, a glaringly new poster was taped amongst the tiny pamphlets and flyers.

He stepped closer, squinting to get a better look to read it:

_‘Photography Competition,_

_Prize money up to 10k Won or a new camera!_

 

_Theme: Galaxia of Stars_

_More details at MilkyWay.com!’_

 

Oh.

He stared at the constellations depicted in the navy background and bit his lower lip with curiosity. This seemed interesting . . . and coincidentally, he had thought of replacing his old camera. Perhaps he should . . . try contacting Taekwoon about this?

_Okay, no, snap out of it, Hongbin._

Shaking his head, he tried not to think of the slip of paper he had kept in his wallet but never keyed the numbers written there onto his phone. He hasn’t seen Taekwoon since but . . . well, remembering how the last time they met, he probably should rethink his decision to go back to the bakery in case he didn’t want a case of déjà vu. Instead, he fished out his phone and snapped a picture of the poster.

As the picture loaded onto his camera reel, he slowly turned his heel to maybe start thinking of another place to buy food and maybe—

“Hongbin!”

He halted in his steps and blinked in surprise.

“Oh, Jaehwan-hyung.” He greeted with a smile, waving in greeting. “Hi!”

The medical student returned the gesture, a bright lopsided smile of his own, and seeing it made Hongbin be momentarily reminded of cotton candy. “Nice to see you again, dude. Are you heading to class?”

“Ah, yes, I was.” Hongbin nodded, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “...and what about you?”

“Oh, just…” Jaehwan shrugged and Hongbin glimpsed a box in his hand, small yet wrapped even with a bow on top; obviously a present. Despite not wanting to, Hongbin was intrigued. “...a little something for someone special.”

He nodded, the corner of his lips curled up. “Oh, I didn’t know you were dating someone.”

Jaehwan chuckled. “Actually, I’m not the type of person who dates.”

That was what he has been told a few times, Hongbin knew, but decided to apologize instead. “Ah, sorry about the assumption.”

“Nah, it’s okay.” Jaehwan waved it off dismissively before bringing the present more into view; wrapped in a putrid puce wrappings with a horribly pink bow. Upon inspection, Hongbin could readily tell that Jaehwan wasn’t touched by color and somehow that explained the older’s reason for not dating.  “This for one of the kids at the kindergarten I volunteer at. It’s his birthday and the little brat wanted a Spiderman figurine for a long while.”

“That’s cute.” He smiled. “I didn’t know you were good with kids.”

“Wee little devils but lovable if you know what’s their favorite sweets.” Jaehwan grinned. “You were checking out that poster, huh?”

Hongbin’s gaze followed to where Jaehwan was pointing to the competition poster pinned up onto the bulletin board. “Yeah, had an inkling to join it because why not?”

“Do you happen to know Taekwoon?”

Hongbin bit the inside of his cheek, trying to ignore how his stomach did a tiny jig at the mention of the name. “Actually, yeah. We talked bit at the party and some time after that.”

“He likes that sort of thing, taking photos of the stars. He’s really good at it too.” Jaehwan grinned. “Have you seen his photos yet?”

“Nope.” In hindsight, Hongbin wished he did.

“Maybe try asking the next time you see him?” Jaehwan offered, head tilting like a puppy. “He’s especially eager to show it to the ones he find to be cute.”

A flush crept up to his cheeks and he wanted the earth to split open underneath him rather than endure the almost knowing, cheeky smile on Jaehwan’s face. Clearing his throat, he looked away from the older’s eyes and quickly started to rake his brain for a way to exit before the memory of curious, pretty feline eyes returned to—

“Actually, Hongbin.” Jaehwan scratched behind his pointy ear with his free hand, sheepishly. “I do have a question.”

Relieved at this abrupt switch in topic, Hongbin nodded. “Yeah, shoot.”

“You’re close with Hakyeon-hyung, right?”

“...yeah. Why?”

He watched the growing discomfort on the older’s face, sensing the struggle to find words. “Uh, I don’t want to be nosy or anything...but you see, Hana and I have been really good friends for a long time…”

“...yeah?” Hongbin prompted again, confused.

“I was just wondering…”

 _‘Uh-oh,’_ Hongbin thought. _‘Please don’t tell me you want me to ask him to back off or something of the sort, hyung. Please don’t be that guy_ —, _’_

Jaehwan leveled his gaze, calmly. “...is Hakyeon serious about thinking to match with Hana?”

Well, _that_ was rather unexpected.

Hongbin bit his lip, unsure how he was supposed to answer this. “I guess so? He hasn’t really shared anything about it to me.”

Truthfully, it was weird to have heard it from Jaehwan because Hakyeon was the king of not-being-able-to-help-himself-from-talking. He would’ve heard about it at some point unless . . .  

“Oh, okay.” Jaehwan glanced at his feet again. “Please don’t misunderstand me, we’ve been friends for so long and I’m just trying to look out for her. I don’t know Hakyeon very well but I wanna believe my instinct that he’s a good guy.”

“Under his idiocy, he is.” Hongbin grinned when it made Jaehwan chuckle. “I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about. Whatever happens in the future, those two will be okay. This...isn’t Hakyeon’s first time trying to find his match.”

“O-oh.”

“He’s such a hopeless romantic, I can tell you that clearly.” Hongbin explained. “He lives with his heart on his sleeve, probably more than he should.”

Jaehwan nodded. “So is she.”

“Also…” Hongbin rubbed his nape slightly uneasily. “...it’s kinda none of our business?”

Jaehwan chuckled. “True. It isn’t but there’s no harm in being worried about your friends’ wellbeing, right?”

Hongbin knew _that_ all too well. “Yep.”

“Well, then…” Jaehwan readjusted his grip onto the present. “...oh, Hongbin, I hope you really consider contacting Taekwoon about that competition.”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation, he smiled. “Sure, I will.”

“Has he ever told you about the hiking trips he ever went on to take his photos?”

“A little.”

Jaehwan grinned. “I wonder if he’s gonna tell you the crazier ones.”

“The craziest one?” Hongbin raised a brow. “The only one vaguely interesting he’s ever mentioned was getting chased by bugs.”

Stifling a puff of laughter, Jaehwan started to walk backwards. “Boy, wait till you hear his crazier ones.”

“Like…?”

“The one time one of his friends lose their swimming trunks in the ocean.”

Hongbin grinned. “I’ll try to remember to ask next time.”

“You better!” Jaehwan waved. “See you, Hongbin!”

.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope the length of this chapter satisfies you  
> i apologize if there were errors, i didn't have the brain cells to proofread this  
> have a lovely day!  
>   
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/beanedbybean)  
> 


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